


Sanctuary

by NaturallyBroken



Series: Steve Steps Up [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaturallyBroken/pseuds/NaturallyBroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America continues to work on moving on and adapting to the world around him, but will a late night call give him a new purpose? This story occurs after my previous story Fallen. Reading it first will give you some perspective into where Steve is emotionally and the bond between Clint and Steve in this story. This story is really more about Steve and Natasha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visitors

It was a few weeks before Steve saw Clint again. Captain America was needed on some missions but mostly he just had a lot of time to himself. He went out to dinner with Stark and Banner a couple of times but although the meal was good, he still felt out of place. The conversation never failed to go to their work outside of the Avenger initiative. Then it was all concepts and big words that he swore he would look up later and never did. They seemed happy in their work and some extent that made Steve happy, but they never talked about Coulson. Maybe they finished their grieving way before he started. He couldn't understand how that was possible, once he let the grief into his heart, he felt like it was never going to leave.

Steve still went out for his nightly motorcycle rides of the city. But they were always bittersweet; every new place he found he would think how much Coulson or his "brother" Clint would love it. But one seemed like he was never coming back, the other never was. Steve decided to add "make more friends" to his growing list of things to do when not being a hero.

* * *

"I've got the target in sight. Waiting for the go ahead."

"Hawkeye is that you?" Steve sputtered into his mike; he thought Clint was still in Afghanistan.

"Sure is Cap', apparently I'm the special guest to the party. I barely got off the plane before they sent me back out."

Another voice crackled into the conversation "If you two love birds can catch up later I'd like to get home for dinner."

"Yes sir, sorry sir."

"Still waiting for the go ahead, I could use some dinner too and maybe a bed." Clint still had very little respect for the new handler.

"Take out the target, Barton." Clint released the explosive tipped arrow, surgically removing their target without destroying the surrounding structures.

"Target eliminated, and by the way I like my steak medium rare."

After the debriefing, made longer due to a lecture on respect of rank, Steve waited as everyone filed out knowing that Clint would be last.

"Hey Clint, you got any plans for the night."

"Nothing really, could use some food but otherwise, I'm good."

"Well, I wanted to show you something. It's outside of the city; you can ride on my motorcycle, and we can stop and get food on the way."

"We'll take my car, I'm not riding bitch."

"Riding what?"

"Bitch, it's the passenger on the back of a motorcycle."

"Sounds insulting," Clint just gives Steve a look. "Okay, I guess we are taking your car."

After stopping for food, Steve directed Clint on to a road taking them out of the busy city into the more sedate night of the countryside. This was turning out to be a long ride and Clint hadn't slept in at least 48 hours. He was just about to ask Steve if they were anywhere near the place when he was directed to pull off onto a narrow gravel road. Steve gestured for Clint to continue following the narrow pathway which continued up a hill. "This is a car, not your two-wheeler; if you want us up there we are going to have to walk."

Climbing the hill Clint felt even more tired, "This had better be good," He thought.

"I meant to thank you for the photo, Clint, where did you find it?"

"Agent Hill found it actually. Just told her I was trying to find something for you of Phil and she was all kinds of helpful. I think she has thing for you. You should ask her out to coffee or something."

Steve stops for a moment then continues moment then continues quickly up the last few feet to the top of the hill.

"Are you blushing Cap'?"

"Can you walk a little faster Clint? I'd like to show you this before dawn."

"You are blushing aren't you?"

"Shut up Clint." Clint chuckles but does pick up the pace and shortly meets Steve at the top of the hill. What his greeted to is a small clearing. At first, he was going to give Steve a hard time about dragging him all the way out here at night to see someone's backyard but then he realizes how calm he feels, how the stress and strain that has been building over the weeks of repeat missions is just melting away.

"Whose place is this?"

"No one's at the moment, it's up for sale. I was just riding out here one night, and ended up here."

Clint walked around the edge of the clearing, examining all the plants he could see by the rather bright moon. "Someone's really taken care of this place, but why bring me up here?"

"Cause I can feel him here, Clint. It's like Agent Coulson is all over this property."

"Are you going crazy…?"

"Just hear me out Clint. You have to admit that this area makes you feel calm. It does that for me too. And despite what you think when we are out there fighting I'm more tense then anything… But then I would hear Coulson's voice I'd feel better. And there is a little stream back there that I swear sounds like that little laugh he had when you said something that was actually funny."

"Steve, Phil is gone."

"I know that. I'm old Clint, not a moron. But hell, I still need him. I need what he gave me, gave all of us and since I can't get if from him this is a reasonable facsimile. This is why I going to buy the place."

"You're what?"

"I'm tired of the city; it's as chaotic as our missions. I need someplace that's makes me feel calm and safe…It's like god, Coulson, something pointed me right here. There is no way I should've have found this spot."

Clint patted Steve on the back "Well if you feel this is what you need than I'm happy for you. Once you get settled in do you mind if I brought Natasha up to see the place? If it can calm her down, it would be a miracle." Even Steve had to chuckle at that.

"Sure, I plan on inviting everyone up once I get settled. I just wanted to show you first. You are the only one who has treated me like a friend…family since I was found. You and Coulson and well I can't show it to him."

"You know you can call him Phil."

"Wouldn't be respectful, even now. It's like calling your parents by their first name."

"Oh…Well I think Ph…Coulson would have appreciated that."

"Still wish he was around to appreciate it in person."

"Yeah, so do I."

A silence grew between them as just stood there in the clearing. Then by silent agreement they headed back to the car and started the trip back to the city.

It took another month before Steve was given the keys to his place in the country. The purchase had gone smoothly, thanks to Agent Hill whose help he had asked for over a cup of coffee one evening. He had taken Hawkeye's advice and asked her out, or more accurately stumbled over his words until she figured out what he wanted and agreed. He was more comfortable talking to her about the desire to purchase the property than he was the new handler. He only seemed concerned about the missions, not the team as people.

Over the next few weeks he moved stuff in and worked on making the place more his own. The first nail in the wall was to hang the picture of him and Coulson. He placed it on the wall above his desk. He also added framed copies of news coverage of the Avengers fight against Loki. It was his sneaky way of getting photos of the rest of his "family" on the wall without them giving him grief about it. Steve is disappointed that he could never find a clear picture of Clint or Natasha in any of the clippings. But then he figures it's probably better to keep them safe out in the field.

Once again there are no missions for Captain America so Steve has a lot of time to putter around the new home and yard. He added a patio table and chairs to the clearing hoping that one day everyone will have time come visit and enjoy the calm that this place seems to emanate.

One night as he was about to go to bed his cellphone rang.

"Cap," said the shaky voice on the line "this is Clint, I got a big favor to ask."

"Anything, what's wrong?"

"It's Nat… mission went seriously sideways. She was…hurt. Debriefing just made everything worse. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't fucking helping, I can but not here…"

"How soon can you be here?"

"30 minutes tops."

"I'll be ready."

For a half-hour Steve didn't have much to do but worry about what Clint meant by hurt. Why couldn't it be taken care of at headquarters? Had Natasha been compromised like Clint had with Loki? A frantic knock startled him out of his thoughts and he rushed to open the door.

"Clint, Natas…oh." He caught just a glimpse of her face from the porch light. He was thankful he didn't see her whole face as it would've been hard for him to maintain his composure. She'd been hurt, bad.

"She needs to sit down Steve," Clint said while pushing his way into the house bringing Natasha along with him. Steve numbly closed the door while Clint helped Natasha onto the couch. Touching his forehead to the door he took a few deep breaths, put his brain into official mode, plastered on the look of calm, and went to see how he could help.

When he approached, Natasha never looked up. He knelt down beside her, hoping she would not see pity in his eyes when he looked at her. He knew that's the last thing she would want. "What do you need Agent Romanov?"

She tilted her head so she could look in his face. It took every bit of resolve in Steve to not look away. Hurt was such a weak word to describe what he saw. Her face covered in cuts and dark purple bruises, some of them were yellowing which showed that whatever had caused them was at a different time than the others. Her lips were cracked and bleeding, her nose bloodied, although it didn't seem broken; one of her eyes was swollen shut and the other was red and tearing. Her hair has been hacked or burned away in places.

Natasha could only meet Steve's eyes for a moment then she looked away, dropping her head heavily as if the whole motion had taken a toll. "Tea…," Natasha was able to force out, her voice barely a harsh whisper. Steve practically jumped up and ran to make tea. He needed some air. He had seen front line soldiers with less damage, seeing Natasha like this broke his heart. He couldn't understand how Clint was holding up.

Steve brought her back a mug of tea, which Clint had to hold steady while she drank. "I think I should tuck her in for the night." Clint helped Natasha up and led her to the guest bedroom. Steve followed a little behind in case Clint needed help but mostly because he didn't know what to do. He didn't follow them into the room but stood numbly at the door. "Thanks," Clint said before shutting the door. Steve had no idea what he was being thanked for, he hadn't done anything.

It was a fitful night for everyone in the house. Clint didn't sleep much, because he was watching over Natasha. Natasha would sleep in fits and wake up screaming or fighting, often forgetting where she was, and that her previous ordeal was over. Steve couldn't sleep because he wanted to do "something" to help his team member, his sister in arms, but didn't know how to begin to reach her. They had always been pleasant, respectful to each other but never anything that could be called friends. About 5am Steve realized that Clint didn't bring in any gear with him, so he threw on clothes and went outside to Clint's car, retrieving two overnight bags. He opened the guest bedroom door slightly and realized that they both were sleeping peacefully for the moment. He quietly shoved the two bags against the wall by the door just inside the room and closed the door again.

Steve decided to go for a run, hoping to clear his mind and maybe figure out how he could help Natasha. Not until he was near the end of his run, while climbing the hill to the back clearing did it come to him. Sanctuary. That's what she needed, sanctuary from the long ago past and the recent past, sanctuary from S.H.I.E.L.D. the most at the moment. He wasn't sure what happened during debriefing but was sure it had to do with the impersonal new handler. He would make this place, his home, a sanctuary for Natasha, and Clint, he probably needed some relief as well.

When he got back in the house he could hear his guests beginning to stir. Deciding he could shower later he started the coffee maker and put the kettle on the stove for tea. He then began rummaging through the fridge trying to figure out what Natasha could eat in that wouldn't hurt. Egg perhaps, but he didn't know how she liked them or even if she did, but he took them out anyway and sat them on the counter. He turned to find that Clint standing by the kitchen table.

"Oh good you are already making tea… She could use some." Clint's attention was split between Steve and the bedroom that he kept looking back towards.

"Yeah, and coffee for you too. Do you think Natasha can eat something? I was thinking eggs but I can make something else."

"I, I don't know."

"Why don't you go check. I'll bring the coffee and tea in there in a minute."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome Clint, but really I'm not doing anything."

"You just don't realize it Steve." Clint didn't explain what that meant but headed back to Natasha.

While Steve was waiting for the tea to steep he went out on the back porch. Looking over at the clearing he wished that he could get her to come outside, somehow he thought it would help her, but knew it wasn't time yet. Spotting that some of the day lilies were in bloom he decided to bring her just a taste of what she could come see later. Retrieving a glass bottle from his recycle bin he cut a few flowers to take in for her.

Settling the coffee, tea and flowers on a tray he quietly entered the guest room and sat the tray on the bed next to Natasha, who although awake and sitting up, didn't acknowledge his presence. Clint took the coffee and sat it on the nightstand and was about to help Natasha hold her cup when she reached out for it. But she didn't pick up the tea cup but instead the bottle with flowers and with great effort hurled it at the wall. Both Clint and Steve jumped at the impact both turning to stare blankly at Natasha. Clint was the first to recover and pretend that it just didn't happen, he went to lift her teacup again but she batted his hand away and picked up the cup herself, drinking it down quickly.

"I'll clean that up," Steve mumbled numbly and left the room. He could hear Clint's voice but not what he was saying. He didn't really care at that moment. Steve knew that Natasha didn't have much used for him but he never expected her to be hostile. He reminded himself that she had been through a lot lately and he couldn't take it personally, although it was hard not to.

When he got back into the room to clean the mess up, Natasha appeared to be asleep again. Clint motioned him outside the room.

"I've got to go in town for some supplies for Nat's injuries. Can you sit with her until I get back?"

Steve thought of volunteering to go but figured maybe Clint needed some time away. "Are you sure she wants me here?" Steve's eyes couldn't help but look over at the broken flowers and glass.

"She's probably going to be asleep the whole time I'm gone. She ain't gonna to hurt you Steve," Clint says noticing where Steve is looking. "Her guns are in my car and she only has a knife on her, besides you heal quickly."

"It's not that. I just wanted to make sure I don't make things worse."

"I don't think it can get worse," and with that Clint left.

Steve busied himself cleaning up the glass and flowers, putting everything in a small trash can because he didn't trust to leave her alone long enough for him to take it outside. He saved out one flower that was undamaged and placed it on the dresser. "Maybe she will like it later," he thought. Then he took a chair out of the corner and put it in front of the nightstand and sat.

Steve was startled out of his thoughts by her screams, raw, painful, and continuous. They came so fast one after another they sounded like one continual scream. When she began to kick and fight Steve got up to hold her down, so she wouldn't hurt herself. She kicked the blankets off and Steve stopped, frozen by what he saw. She was only in her underwear so he could see that her attackers left no area unharmed. Her legs, torso and chest were a mass of bruises and cuts. He could see a couple of places where bandages had been applied, probably at headquarters, but it didn't cover the majority of what had been done. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and manages to catch Natasha by the wrist before she stabs him. He grabs her other wrist, holding her while trying to reach her.

"Romanov, Agent Romanov, stand down. Stand down." Her eyes are wide open but she's oblivious to Steve as she is trapped in her own flashback. "Romanov…" She continues to struggle against him so much he begins to worry that he is hurting her. "Oh god Natasha, Natasha wake up. Natasha you are safe, just stop fighting me."

Natasha stops struggling, "Clint?" She sounds like a lost child to Steve. He wants to hold her so bad, to make all this hurt go away but he knows she won't accept it.

"No it's Rogers… Steve. Clint went to get something to treat your wounds. He'll be back soon."

There was a brief look of recognition in her eyes that turned to an icy glaze "Let go of my wrists."

Steve released one wrist and then the other but only after forcibly removing the small dagger out of Natasha's hand, and placing it on the dresser beside the flower.

"Give that back to me."

"No, you have me and Clint, when he gets back, who can protect you. Until you stop having flashbacks, I'm assuming that's what you are having, you can only hurt yourself, me, or Clint with that knife. While I'm an excellent healer you and Clint are not. Do you want to risk hurting Clint?

"No."

"Well that's something we agree on."

Steve returns to his chair and Natasha lies back down, just staring at the ceiling

"Why did you throw the flowers?" Steve blurted out. It had occupied his mind for the last 10 minutes and he just couldn't figure out the answer.

"Why did you bring them in the first place?"

"Because after all the ugliness you've endured lately, I wanted to give you something beautiful to focus on."

"And to remind me I will never be beautiful again. That's why I threw them away. I'm not vain Rogers, but I know beauty can be a powerful weapon. I've used it time and again to lure my targets. They took that away from me."

"No they didn't, the bruises and cuts will heal, Natasha, and…"

"You obviously don't understand torture."

"Maybe I understand more than you think."

Natasha started to reply but she heard Clint opening the front door and calling for Steve to help with the bags. Steve went to help which left her alone in her thoughts. She crawls to the end of the bed to take the few painful steps to the dresser in order to retrieve her dagger. Her fingers tentative touch the edge of the flower. For reasons she can't understand she takes it along with her dagger back to the bed, placing the dagger back under her pillow, the flower she keeps in one hand as she continues to stroke the petals with her other.


	2. Trust

Steve enters the living room to see Clint with an arm full of bags and pushing two more with his foot into the door. Steve grabs the bags off the floor and starts heading toward the kitchen.

"I picked up some breakfast, I think we should wake Natasha up and have her eat out here, moving around I think would help."

"She's already awake." Clint seemed frozen in place between taking the bags into the kitchen and sprinting to be at Natasha side. Steve puts his bags down and removes Clint's from his hands. "Go, I'll sort this all out."

Steve goes about setting out food for breakfast, putting away the extra food supplies. He looks into the other bags and realized there are clothes, medical supplies, and Natasha's guns. He can hear Clint helping Natasha to the bathroom so he figures this is a good time to drop the supplies and clothes off in the guest bedroom. The guns he puts in drawer of his desk. Coming out of his office he almost runs into Clint who is looking for the clothes. "Why did you bring her…?" he whispers as he mimes a gun.

"I didn't want to leave them at headquarters. I had a tail today that I was able to shake off but I know they may catch me if I go out again so didn't want to leave them in the car. They are probably also watching any of the places we usually stay at when in town so this was the only safe place.

"Don't you think they will come here?"

"I don't think it's occurred to…" Before Clint can finish Natasha calls for him. "We'll talk later."

Steve is about to return to the kitchen when his cellphone rings.

"Where are Agents Barton and Romanov?" The voice on the line snaps at Steve.

"Is there a problem, sir? Has something happened to them?"

"There will be a problem if they don't report in. Call me when they contact you."

"Yes…sir." Steve realized he was talking to a dead connection. Lucky for him the new handler is long on aggression and short on patience and actual listening. He hadn't exactly lied but he was sure Coulson would've noticed he was avoiding the question.

Back in the kitchen, setting the table, Steve wonders about what would happen if someone like Fury asked him directly about Clint and Natasha's whereabouts. Lying is not a trait of a good soldier, especially when it came to superiors. But this was his team, his family, how could he betray them? He didn't know the whole story but he trusted Clint. He just didn't want to have to pick a side when they were all supposed to be the good guys.

Steve turns around to see Clint helping Natasha to the table. She has on a flowery sundress that brought out all her best features, despite all her injuries. It made her look innocent. Steve surmised it probably wasn't her dress, he didn't think she would ever buy anything that made her look that way.

"You look pretty," Steve blurted out and immediately regretted it.

Natasha smirked, "So Agent Rogers, I look pretty now? Is that how you like your women, bruised and bleeding?" her voice rose with every word "Battered… Broken… Gutted… Humiliated...Destroyed!" Almost inhumanely fast she had taken her dagger out of somewhere and pointed at Steve's chest, the point almost breaking through the material of his shirt. The only thing that had prevented it from piercing the skin was that Clint managed to grab her arm.

"Natasha, put the knife away," Clint says putting his other arm around her waist trying to hold her steady and slowly move her away from Steve.

"Let her go Clint." Clint cocks he head and gives Steve his best ‘are-you-nuts?’ look. "I mean it, Clint, let… her… go. She's lost enough control of her life lately, if she wants to stab me that should be her decision." Clint lets go of her arm but keeps an arm around her waist. Steve looks at Clint and shakes his head. Clint reluctantly lets go of Natasha completely and takes a small step back, making sure he can get to her in time if she starts to fall, or goes for Steve.

Steve looks down at Natasha so he can look into her eyes. She starts to look away "Don't you dare look away Romanov. If you are going to stab me than you better look me in the eyes while doing it. You are that strong, I know you are." Natasha glares at him but she doesn't look away again. "I said something stupid, and I apologize. I just could see how you would look in that dress once you are healed and it was a nice image. I should've kept that to myself I suppose. But for the record, no I do not like my women bruised and bleeding. I know you don't want to hear this but it breaks my heart to see you hurt like this. I want to make everything better, and it frustrates me that I can't. So if stabbing me would make you feel better than do it. If you want to cut and beat on me until I look like you do then go ahead, I'll heal. I won't hold it against you."

They are at a standstill, Natasha contemplating, Steve waiting for the inevitable. But he meant to stand by what he said, for her sake, for all their sakes. They were a team, and when one member was hurting, they all were hurting. Finally, Natasha pulls back the knife throwing it on the table. "Always the good soldier," she spits out, before turning to walk away. Her legs give out mid-turn and she starts to fall. Clint reaches for her but Steve is faster, putting his arms around her and keeping her steady until she can get her legs working again.

"I think the lady needs a chair Clint, and probably some breakfast." Steve helps Natasha into the chair Clint pulls out then sits down across from her and begins to fill his plate.

Breakfast was finished in silence. Natasha gets up and heads back to the guest bedroom. Clint shoves his chair back immediately to help her. "Stay. I need to do this myself; besides you two need to talk."

"Natasha?" She turns to look at Steve to find he's holding her dagger, the hilt pointed towards her. "You forgot your knife." She steps forward and not quite snatches the knife from Steve.

"Boy Scout," she mumbles at him and continues to the guest room stopping every few steps to grab a chair, wall, or table for support.

"You're welcome, Natasha," Steve smiles at Clint.

"Are you trying to get her to kill you Cap'? Cause what she's been through lately, she's likely to grant your wish."

"No, just trying to get her to trust me. That and to focus on the now, not the nightmare that is going on in her head."

"Thanks."

"There you go thanking me again. I keep telling you, I'm not doing anything."

"But you are, you have let us stay here, you haven't told anyone we are here, right?"

"Of course not."

"And you are trying to reach Natasha, fuck man you were even going to let her stab you and you say you aren't doing anything."

"But…"

"Just say you're welcome."

"You're welcome. Now can you tell me what's going on?"

"Asswipe thinks Nat is faking the whole thing. He thinks she's gone rogue and made up the whole capture and torture." Steve figured Clint was talking about the new handler since Clint would at least call Fury by his name.

"You're kidding me. What happened over there?"

"From what I can tell Nat was supposed to meet someone, set up a second meeting then return to the temporary base. She never came back. And whoever was supposed to be her backup went take a piss or something so didn't know how she was taken. They were able to finally locate her contact and through them, found where she was being held, five fucking days later. I should've been there Steve but Asswipe had sent me on some separate dipshit mission."

"You've been on separate missions before Clint, there was no way you could've known what was going to happen."

"I know. Doesn't make me feel any better. So when they get her back to base, Asswipe wants her immediately debriefed, even before medical can get a good look at her."

"He has a name Clint."

"He doesn't deserve one. He didn't let her go to medical and she's got this big infected gash on her leg. He has her wheeled into one of the interrogation rooms and locks everyone out. Has guards posted outside of the room. Except he forgot to have the camera shut off to the room. Hill accessed the feed so I could know what was going on. That wasn't a debriefing, it was an interrogation. Yelling, threatening, when he slapped her I had to be restrained by fellow agents. I was going to kill him."

Steve moved closer and put a hand on Clint's shoulder "Where was Fury?"

"Conveniently out of the building on business."

"You think that…" Steve found he didn't want to speak the new handlers name either, now knowing what he did. "He created a situation for Fury to be away?"

Clint gave him a look then continued. "He wasn't getting the answers he wanted. I don't know what he expected, the onboard medical had shot her up with morphine and she was feverish from infection. After about an hour, he called in Strickland."

Steve's eyes widened "Strickland, you mean the…" the words died on his tongue. He didn't like to think about the fact that the good guys used such techniques to extract information from enemies. The fact that it was even considered to be used on one of their own created a pain in the pit of his stomach that threatened to bring back up breakfast.

"Everyone let go of me at that point."

"Clint, what did you do?"

"I didn't kill anyone. But I did blow the fucking door off its hinges and got Natasha out of there. Somehow all security personnel didn't get the initial call for help. It really does pay to be nice to your fellow agents sometimes."

"Do you think it's safe to be here? They do know where I live."

"Asswipe considers you the perfect soldier that you would never lie to him. He won't send anyone here. Has he called you yet?"

"Yes. And no, I didn't tell him I'd seen you."

"See Cap' I knew I could depend on you to lie."

"But I didn't lie so much as…"

"Well," Clint pushes his chair back from the table. "I think I need a shower."

The afternoon was uneventful; Steve went about his normal day of house projects, Natasha stayed in the guest room the majority of the time but made a couple of circuits around the house, stumbling mostly. One time she fell and Steve and Clint made it to her at the same time. They carried her back to bed, even though she protested the whole time.

Clint spent most of the afternoon making phone calls on the various throwaway cell phones he had acquired.

"What's with all the phone calls Clint?" Steve finally asked.

"Trying to score antibiotics and pain killers for Nat and trying to get to Fury."

"You would think he would've called you or me by now."

"Well my phone is dismantled, didn't want it traced and yeah, if he hasn't called you then I think he's being kept out of the loop of what's going on."

"But why?"

"Ego, asshole wants to bring in a big catch all on his own, even if he's completely fucking wrong. Nat isn't a turncoat, she's fought too hard, I would know…"

Steve suddenly grabs Clint and pulls him into a hug, well a one side hug as Clint is paralyzed in place. "You don't have to convince me of her innocence Clint," Steve whispers.

"Uh Cap', what do you think you're doing?" Clint says while trying to extricate himself from Steve's clutches.

Steve lets go and takes a step backward, blushing from embarrassment. "I saw it on TV. Apparently men are supposed to do that now when they see another man in distress.

"No more daytime TV for you Cap'."

"Ok…Just trying to help. Do you want me to try and contact Fury?"

"Not now, I don't want you involved."

"But I'm already involved; you are staying at my house."

"Yeah but asshole doesn't know you are involved. The longer he believes that the better chance we have to get to Fury before he takes Natasha back in. He's a moron but he has lots of resources at his disposal. It's just a matter of time; I just want her back to normal before that."

Just then they hear a crash followed by several smaller impacts, and a moan of pain. They both start for the sound of the noise, but Steve stops Clint. "Keep making your calls, I've got this."

"Remember she has a knife."

"Yeah and, if she's where I think she is, two guns."


	3. Thrown

Natasha was right where Steve expected to find her, on the floor of his office surrounded by the contents of his desk and holding her guns. He made a mental note that she was holding her guns not pointing them at him, which was a start.

"Why do you have my guns Rogers?"

"Clint didn't think they were safe in his car."

"That explains why they are in the house, but not why you have them."

Steve sighed, "I just didn't think it was a good idea for you to have them right now."

"Who are you to say?"

"The one you tried to stab twice for starters."

Natasha checks how much ammo she has left. "I'll keep these with me."

"I'd prefer you didn't. You know where they are now, if there was an emergency you could get to them but I don't want to have to dodge bullets if you have another flashback. But ultimately it's your choice."

"Yes it is, and I'm keeping them." She expected Steve to try and overrule her decision but he didn't.

"Do you need a hand up Romanov?"

"I'm not weak."

"Didn't say you were, just that from what I heard you've got a pretty nasty gash on your leg, so it's got to be hard moving around. Clint's busy and we don't seem to have crutches or a cane. So I figured you could use a hand, even if it's from me."

"I suppose."

Steve nodded then walked behind Natasha, squatting down so he could get his arms under her arm pits. He knew she wasn't going to let go of the guns long enough to take his hand. When she bent her knees he figured she was ready and started to lift her up slowly. Natasha was shaky but didn't make a sound. Once she was standing he held her for a few seconds to make sure she was steady. "Would you like help to your room?"

"I can manage." Natasha began to stumble out of the room, without so much as a glance toward Steve.

"Romanov, you do know we are on the same team."

"That's what you keep saying boy scout."

When Steve returns to Clint, he's packing away all but one of the phones. Steve pulls a chair next to Clint and collapses into it heavily.

"Just to let you know, she has her guns now."

"She's what?" Clint starts to get up but a firm push on his shoulder by Steve keeps him seated. "C'mon Cap', you know I… care a lot about Natasha, but even I don't think she's …stable enough for weapons right now." Clint felt like he was betraying Natasha, but he also was feeling that she had it out for Captain America even though he couldn't figure out why.

"She needs to feel safe Clint. I don't know what happened over there but even I can tell it shook her badly. Has she told you anything that you can share with me? I know Romanov is a very private person but if I'm going to help I need some idea of what's going on.

"You tell me, Cap'. Honestly she's said more to you in this house than she has to me. The whole ride over here she didn't utter a word. She'll let me know if she needs something, sometimes, but otherwise nothing. I keep hoping that as she gets physically better she'll tell me what's going on but right now I'm running on instinct."

"And too little sleep I'm sure. You can use my room if you need it. I can keep an eye on her."

"I'm good, remember I've stayed up for three-days in a tree. This is nothing."

"But you weren't worried about Natasha then were you?"

"Point taken, but really I'm good. Besides I'm waiting on a call."

"Okay, I'll go clean up my office then, unless you need me to do anything."

"No, I'm good. I think I'll go check on Nat."

Steve headed toward his office. Cleaning up what had fallen off the desk seemed to be the most useless thing to do at the moment, but there just didn't seem to be anything to do. At that moment he would have rather been in a tree for three days. At least that had purpose, you are waiting for a target, collecting intel, some way of being useful. He had been trying to come up with ways to help on his own and he wasn't entirely sure any of it was working. Hurry up and wait had always been his least favorite activity.

Steve heard a phone ring in another room. After a few minutes he hears Clint and Natasha arguing. He's only picking up bits and pieces but can figure out that Clint is heading back out to get something and clearly Natasha doesn't want him to go. Finally the arguing stops and a door is closed. Something is then thrown against a door, wall, he's not sure. He's relieved he doesn't hear gunshots.

Clint appears in the doorway of the office, "Cap' I'm heading out to get more meds. My source is across the fucking city so I won't be back for a couple of hours." Steve just nods. "Make sure she eats something, and there should be at least another pain pill left. If one of those phones out there rings, answer it."

"Be safe out there Clint, she needs you."

"I'm always safe Cap'."

Steve gives him a look. "Be safer, she'll kill me if something happens to you."

"Nothing's going to happen. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Forty-five minutes later, one of the phones in the bag starts ringing.

"Hello."

"Rogers?"

"Yes."

"They have Barton, he's in interrogation. I'll call again when it's safe." The speaker hangs up on their end.

It took everything for Steve to not throw the phone. But what came out of his mouth was a string of expletives that would've made sailors blush and surprised the rest of the team. In the end profanity wasn't enough to deal with the feelings of loss and uselessness. The first kitchen chair hit the wall before he even realized he had picked it up. The next one was his anger at Clint for getting caught and his fear of how he was going to keep Natasha safe. The third chair was his anger at Fury for letting this all happen in the first place. The fourth he threw, imagining the wall was the face of the new handler, underserving of a name, so smug, so aggressive and so wrong. Steve had grabbed the edges of the table to lift it when he realizes Natasha is in the room.

"So, the good soldier does have a temper."

Steve releases his hold on the table and in turning toward Natasha survey's the pile of rubble that used to be his kitchen chairs. He is shocked and ashamed at his loss of control. "I'm sorry…"

"No need to be sorry Rogers, it's… nice to know there is still something human in the super soldier."

"Human? I'm not some alien, Romanov, the serum changed my body not who I am…I'm a soldier, I have to keep my emotions under control, you should know that, but this…" The realization of what caused the tantrum hits him again, "I'm so sorry, you don't know… I…" a different phone in the bag rings. "I've got to get that."

"Hello?"

"It's Hill. I don't have a lot of time. What does she need?"

Steve tried to remember quickly what Clint went to get, "Antibiotics, pain killers, cane or crutch if possible. Where's Fury?"

"I'll see what I can do. Don't know, we're searching."

"Who are we?"

"The less you know the better. I'll call later." Steve feels something poking into his side. He turns to find Natasha with her dagger out. She pushes forward enough to prick at his skin. He thinks to himself at least she didn't bring the guns.

"Why are you giving someone the same list of things that Clint went to get? Who are you selling us out to? When are they coming to get me?"

"No one is coming for you if I can help it. Can you get it through your head Romanov? I am on your side, you are my fellow Avenger, I would like to be your friend but not if you keep sticking me with knives." Steve sighs, he's not sure how she's going to react but he has to tell her the truth. "I was talking with Agent Hill. She's helping now because… S.H.I.E.L.D. caught Clint, they have him in interrogation."

"You son-of-a-bitch," Natasha pulls the knife back before aiming for a higher position on Steve's side, "I knew you would turn him in. No one's coming for me because you are planning to take me in yourself like a good fucking soldier, aren't you?"

Steve starts to turn the moment he feels the pressure of the knife leave his body. He is facing her as she starts to thrust the knife at him again. Grabbing her wrist, Steve tries to force the knife out of her hand but she's moving too much, as well as trying to kick him. They struggle for a few minutes before Steve has had enough and painfully twists Natasha's arm causing her to drop the knife, he'll apologize for it later.

Steve kicks the knife across the floor where it lands in the rubble of the kitchen chairs. "Romanov! Stop fighting me. I know you are many things, I didn't think you were stupid. How can you even think I would turn Clint in? Clint is family to me. I trust Clint with my life and I'm pretty sure he trusts me a lot too, otherwise why would he bring you here instead of somewhere else."

"He can be a foolish."

"Clint Barton is many things but he's not a fool. You know that. But you seem so bent on fighting me that you try and make yourself believe anything. What did I do to deserve this Romanov?"

Natasha glares at him, spitting out her words with as much venom as possible, "Always the good soldier, the golden boy, the boy scout, the never do anything wrong, everyone looks up to."

"What's wrong with that?"

"So is Ivan Koltsov."

"And he is?"

"My torturer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan Koltsov is a OC


	4. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song theme is Kid Fears by Indigo Girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Russian is via Google translation. Sorry for any errors in syntax.

Minutes pass before Steve can form a question. He realizes the gift that Natasha has given him, to share even this small bit of information about those five days. He wants to press for more but he doesn't want her to clamp back down as well. "You knew him from…before?" he asked cautiously.

"We were trained together, but I knew him since I was a child. ...How are we going to get Barton back?" Obviously the sharing was over for now.

"We wait. We don't have enough information to begin to form a rescue plan. We have to trust that Hill and her people are watching over Clint and trying to find Fury."

"Clint wouldn't wait; he didn't wait to get me out."

"He was on the inside; he knew what was going on. And more importantly he had a place to take you that he knew would be safe, at least for a while. Where would we go? I suppose Stark Tower if we could make it there but you know they have to already be watching that place. Whoever, they are. This just can't be the work of…"

"Don't. Say. His. Name."

"Wasn't planning on it. I was going to say this just can't be the work of one man. He couldn't have taken in Clint by himself. He had to have help inside the organization. We don't know who is on what side besides Hill and that is just because she knew that phone number and I just feel I can trust her."

"Then we go meet Hill and get Barton out of there."

"You are not going anywhere Romanoff and that's final. Clint didn't want you anywhere near S.H.I.E.L.D. until you were physically and mentally ready. Do you want everything he went through to get you out, everything he's probably going through now to keep you safe to be for nothing?"

"I'm ready."

Steve stares at Natasha's trembling arm leaning heavily on the kitchen table. His gaze then moves to the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, then down to the trickle of blood running down her leg, from an obviously reopened wound. He returns to his gaze to her face, staring at now two eyes, noting that although he can now see the whites of both of them the swelling hasn't completely gone away. "The only thing you are ready for is more medication and a rewrapping of that wound. Now go sit on the couch and I'll get the supplies."

Natasha doesn't move. She glares at him while trying to will the trembling to stop. Her body aches for relief but she will not be ordered around.

"I'll carry you there if necessary. But if you want to help Clint, you'll let me help you get better." Natasha reluctantly begins to limp and stumble in the general direction of the couch, but her gaze is toward the guest room. As if reading her thoughts Steve continues, "I can get to your guns quicker than you can Romanoff." Natasha sighs and continues toward the couch.

Steve brings her some food and a bottle of water he retrieves from the fridge. Then he brings the medical supplies into the living room, gives her a pill to take and begins to unwrap her wound. "That's the last of the pain medication. If Hill hasn't gotten us more by morning, I'll see if my neighbor down the road has anything. Don't worry; she's a nice old lady who doesn't know who I am. I visit her about once a week. She lost her husband during the war, World War II, and loves to reminisce about that time. She thinks I'm a history expert or something since I know so much about then." Steve removes the last of the bandages. The wound is a diagonal slash, about eight inches long and up to an inch deep, ragged and barely being held closed by surgical tape. "When Hill calls back I'll see if she can find someone who can stitch this up. I have some basic field training but I wouldn't want to attempt that, especially without anesthesia. I can't imagine how you are walking with that. You are one strong woman Romanov." Steve was rewarded with a quick twitch of a smile.

"He was going for the femoral artery. I wasn't about to just stand there and let him bleed me out, so I struggled, that's where the rest of the cut came from."

"Didn't want you to be able to give him away?"

"Something like that."

Steve continued to clean the wound, being gentle as possible. He could feel a lot of heat around the wound and worried about the infection. He didn't want to remove the tape for fear that he couldn't get wound closed again so instead covered it with more tape, figuring that once Natasha got real medical care she would at least be unconscious when they took tape off. Finally when he felt he did the best first aid he could he began rewrapping the wound. "Any other wounds that need to be taken care of?" Steve said. He wanted to take care of the ones in her head and heart, but knew those would take time and she would never ask for help with them anyway. Natasha lifted her dress to show a couple more areas covered with gauze pads. Steve removed bandages, cleaned, and checked each one, noting that except for the large wound everything else was healing on their own.

"He hadn't wanted me dead when he made those, just wanted me to scream. I didn't give him the satisfaction." There was another twitch of a smile, there and gone in a second.

"Sometimes that's the only power we have over bullies, not letting them get the payoff of all the hurt they cause."

"He wasn't a bully Rogers, he was a highly trained tort…"

"Bully. When comes down to it, they are just better trained bullies. Even Hitler, with all his power and insanity was just a better equipped bully."

"What do you know of bullies?"

"Remember Romanov, before I became Captain America I was the poster boy for the ninety-eight pound weakling. It's like I walked around with a target on my back. Sometimes I had people that would save me but there were many times it was just me and the bully. It didn't take much for them to hurt me; with all my ailments, nature had done most of the work for them. Most times I didn't even put up much of a fight, I couldn't; I didn't have the strength. I knew I couldn't beat them physically, but what I could do is not give them the satisfaction of breaking me. Because that's where the real hurt is isn't it? It's not the cuts or bruises or even the broken bones. It's the wounds they leave in our heart, head, and on our very soul, those are the scars that truly hurt and keep on hurting long after the beating is over.

"Yes." It's barely audible and Natasha turns to Steve but can't maintain the gaze and looks away.

"I still have nightmares sometimes where I'm back to my old self; I'm trapped in an alley surrounded by bullies. I struggle with them at first but it's not long before I'm on the ground in a fetal position waiting for the beating to stop. But it never does, and parts of me are being chipped away. Not just skin and bone but I can feel my soul, my mind just leaving. I always wake up before it's all chipped away. But it leaves me wondering what would've happen if not for the serum. Would the bullies have won eventually, would they have succeeded in chipping away all that was me and replaced it with something else?"

Natasha tentatively reached for Steve but pulled her hand back at the last moment. She tries again just hovering over his forearm. In the end she gives him a quick couple of pats on his arm and then reaches for the remote on the coffee table. She flips channels until she finds a black and white movie.

"You see Romanov, I've never experienced torture on the level you have, but I understand the basic concept."

Natasha nods in acknowledgement.

"I've finally figured out the microwave, should we have popcorn to go with our movie?"

"Yes…thank you."

"You may want to save the thank you until you've tasted the popcorn. I still working on getting the timing right, the instructions are not really helpful.

* * *

The movie ended up being some screwball comedy that Steve vaguely remembered seeing in the theatre when it first came out. He had gone by himself to escape life for a while but right now the movie wasn't having the same effect. He had too many things on his mind, Natasha, Clint, Fury, Hill and what was really going on at S.H.I.E.L.D. He was out of his depth right now and he knew it. He thought of calling Stark and Banner but figured there had to be a reason Clint hadn't gotten them involved in the first place, maybe a good reason. It was yet another thing to ask Hill if and when she called again. Steve looks over to see Natasha, hand partially in the bowl of popcorn, fast asleep. Apparently the medication was finally starting to work.

"Natasha," Steve says gently hoping not to startle her awake, "Natasha, maybe you should go to bed."

Natasha stirs, "I'm good right here."

"You won't be, this couch is not great for sleeping. I speak from experience."

"I'm much smaller than you, I'll be fine."

"I can stay with you in the guest room if that would help."

"I'm not a child; I don't need you to keep the monsters away."

"I'm sorry I'm not Clint. I wish he could be here for you."

"We have to get him back."

"Hopefully tomorrow, but you really should sleep in the bed tonight. That leg probably would heal better with less pressure on it. The quicker it can heal the better asset you will be in getting Clint back."

"Okay."

"I'm going to help you to the guest room so we don't open that wound again. I'll see if Mrs. Danvers, that's my neighbor, has an extra cane around, doesn't seem like she throws much of anything away." For once Natasha didn't argue, but allowed Steve to help her off the couch, to the guest room and into bed. Natasha drifted off immediately but was awaken minutes later by a soft scraping of a chair against the hard wood floor. Steve was seated in the chair next to the bed. Apparently, he had gone and changed into more comfortable clothes while Natasha had fallen asleep. He now was wearing a pair of well-worn grey sweat pants and a black t-shirt which when he turned to Natasha she could see bore the Wounded Warrior Project logo. She thought to herself that the t-shirt choice was not by accident.

"I'm staying in this chair tonight. It is not up for discussion Romanov. Now, do you prefer the light on or off?"

"On."

"Okay. Good night Romanov." Natasha said nothing but turned her back to him and went back to sleep.

At about two a.m. one of the phones in the bag started ringing. Steve stumbles out of the guest room to find it. "Hello."

"You'll get a delivery at seven a.m. You won't know the delivery man."

"Doctor?"

"No, they are all being watched too heavily but he'll have what you need. Not much, only what won't be missed around here."

"How is he?"

"In a holding cell for now. Strickland and crew have been requested. Unfortunately," Hill says with a bitter chuckle, "they are not here. They got called away as soon as Clint got brought in, they are traveling on radio silence. Should take at least twelve hours before they can call in to find it was a mistake."

"Thank you."

"I haven't done anything. Anything else you need?"

"I have a question, why hasn't Stark…"

"Too dangerous and too impulsive, that goes for either and both of them. They can come in handy if we need the big guns. What we need right now is Fury. We are doing this without any of our usual channels so it's slow going. Okay times up, I'll call again when I can."

Steve wandered back to the guest room figuring he could still get a few more hours of sleep. He got exactly one.

"Mama! Papa! Ne smotryu ( _don't look)_ " Natasha was sitting straight up, her arms wrapped around her, screaming for all it's worth. "Ukhodi, ( _go away_ )!"

"Romanov, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

"Ukhodi, ukhodi, mama, papa, ukhodi." Her screaming was now accompanied by choking sobs. Every scream that pierced the air felt like a bolt through Steve's heart. He repeatedly asked, begged, for her to wake up but she was beyond hearing. Finally he could take no more, and figuring she could just hate him later, he sat on the bed and pulled her into a one-armed hug, stroking her hair with the other hand, telling her over and over that it was all going to be okay. After what seemed like hours Natasha began to register his touch, his words, and woke from her nightmare.

"I'm sorry Romanov, there was no other way. I couldn't just let you be in pain like that."

Natasha went to speak but what came out hacking cough.

"I'll get you some water." Steve starts get up when Natasha grabs his hand and shakes her head no. Steve resumes holding Natasha, just a little bit tighter, putting both arms around her and moving his head down until his mouth is close by her ear. "I know I'm not Clint…"

Natasha swallows then whispers "But you understand bullies, you know what it's like to be tormented."

"Yes, I do. Let me help you, please."

Natasha's answer is once again swallowed by hacking coughs. Steve extricates himself from the hug, gently removing Natasha's hand when she tries to hold him back. "You need water. I'll be right back."

When Steve returns Natasha is sitting with her feet dangling over the side of the bed. He pushes the chair so that she can prop her wounded leg on the chair, hands her the glass of water then pulls a pillow off the bed to cushion where her leg touches the chair. He then joins her back on the bed.

"May I touch you?"

"You already did."

"You weren't in a position to answer and you needed out of that nightmare."

"You have a point." They sit in silence for a few moments. "Yes." Steve puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into him a bit. "Boy Scout."

"I was never a boy scout, asthma." They continued to sit. Occasionally Natasha eyes would water, she was not crying. Steve would give her shoulder a little squeeze and pretend he didn't see anything. "Romanov, you know that eventually you are going to have to tell someone what happened."

Natasha nods.

"You know you can always talk to me about it, if you want to. I'm a good soldier, but I'm not Kolstov." Natasha nodded again. They sat in silence again; Steve had assumed that Natasha had fallen back asleep but didn't want to move, fearing he would wake her. So he is startled a bit when she turns toward him.

"He made my parents watch."

"I thought your parents were dead, Romanov."

"They are and he had them watch every minute he degraded me."


	5. Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the events mentioned in this chapter may be triggering for some. I tried to bridge the gap between giving the feel and emotions of the situation and describing what occurred without just being about gory details. I hope I succeeded. Song for this chapter is Perfect Circle by R.E.M.

"I don't understand. How could they be there if they are…?"

Natasha sighs, "It wasn't them, they were imposters but I was so drugged I believed it at the time."

"Why bring your parents, imposters of your parents? Did he believe that he could get you to tell them the information he wanted?"

"He didn't want information. He wanted to break me, to destroy every part of me until I was just a quivering lump of clay. A clean slate that he could rebuild into his own version of a killer, more like him, good soldier, unquestioning, obedient, and still deadly. This much he told me. I don't know if he was the mastermind or the puppet, though," Natasha smirks, "I was a little too occupied to find out."

"But he didn't break you."

"How could he, I'm already broken."

"Of course, you're one of Coulson's broken children."

"You sound like Clint."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I do wish Coulson was still alive, I believe none of this would've happened if he was here. He wouldn't have sent in a rookie as my backup. And even if Kolstov still managed to get me, when I was extracted he would've debriefed me properly, not treated me as the enemy." Natasha sighed again, "We need Coulson."

"But we can't have him."

"I know which is why we need to find Fury."

"I'm sure Hill is doing everything she can to find him."

"If anything happens to Clint, I'll kill her."

"No, you won't."

"I'll kill that asswipe of a handler."

"No, you won't and you are sounding like Clint."

Natasha smiled, "Do I at least get to hurt him really badly?"

Steve sighed, "We'll see, Romanov."

In the quiet still of the predawn morning, both of them nodded off to sleep sitting on the edge of the bed. They were awakened by the doorbell. Steve looked around and saw sunlight filtering through the guest room window and assumed it was time for their delivery.

Steve gets up from the bed and starts for the front door, "That must be our guy." He hears Natasha scrambling behind him and turns to find her reaching for her guns.

"You don't know that, I'll cover you."

Steve doubted he needed back up but Natasha needed to be useful. "Okay, but first," Steve picks up and hands Natasha the discarded sundress, "Clothes. Second, I'm carrying you into the living room, it's faster and less stress on your leg, and third, you don't shoot unless I give the order."

"What if you are incapacitated and can't give the order?"

Steve smiled, "Then I expect you to save me."

Steve lifted Natasha and carried her into the living room and placed her against the front wall, she would be behind the door when it opened.

"It's about time; I was worried when you didn't answer the door quickly." The agent walked in carrying two small bags. He was short, only about 5' 4", balding, mousy brown hair, glasses, and a little overweight. Steve closed the door behind him after first checking to see if he could spot any other people or vehicles, not that he expected to see any, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be so obvious. The agent was setting the bags on the living room table. "Oh yeah, I'm Bob Jackson, accounting and payroll, this is my first field assignment, unofficially of course. They figured no one would follow me and I live about 5 miles from here. It's nice to meet you Capt…" Bob notices Natasha against the wall. "Why does she have guns pointed at me?"

Steve turns to Natasha, noting that it is the strongest and most focused he's seen her since she arrived. "Stand down Romanov."

Natasha doesn't move, "You don't know if he's who he says."

"Agent Jackson, can I see your wallet for a moment." Bob hands Steve his wallet, never taking his eyes off Natasha.

Steve rifles through the wallet, "Driver's license, S.H.I.E.L.D. key card, social security card, one, two, three credit cards and a picture of his family. Good enough Romanov?"

"Could've all been fabricated."

"I can't call anyone to confirm that it hasn't been. Hill has been calling me and I'm sure her personal phone is off and I can't get the information from Stark without him asking questions. I'm going with my gut on this one and say he's clean. You're just going to have to trust me."

Natasha lowers her guns, "Don't make me regret it."

Bob continues nervously, "There are two new phones in here. Disable the previous ones, we've found one of 'his' spies, they knew about the previous phones. Agent Hill will contact you at nine. We got what meds we could, I even emptied my medicine cabinet but there isn't anything much stronger than over the counter I'm afraid, some antibiotics, but not much. I hope it's enough. I didn't know how you were on food so I threw in some granola bars, protein shakes, and beef jerky. Sorry, the wife hasn't been shopping. We think we have a lead on Fury, Agent Hill will tell you more about that." Bob walked to the door and opened it "Goodbye Capt. Rogers, Agent Romanov, stay safe. Remember you have friends on the inside."

Natasha smiled "Of course Agent Jackson, and if you cross us I will find you."

"I don't doubt it," replied Bob nervously and quickly exited the house.

Steve shakes his head "Couldn't resist could you? Make an inventory of what Jackson brought us and I'll make us breakfast."

After breakfast, Steve gathered what used to be a set of kitchen chairs and put them on the back porch. "I guess when this is over, I'll need to go shopping," Steve says. "Do you think you'd be okay by yourself for about thirty minutes? I was thinking about running down to Mrs. Danvers and see if she has a cane or something for you."

Natasha pats the guns beside her, "I'll be fine." Steve goes into his room to change. When he comes out he hands Natasha a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. "This is my cell phone number. If there is an emergency, use one of the new phones and call me. I'll be here in under a minute." Steve hesitates a moment at the door but then closes it. Natasha is capable of taking care of herself even now, he told himself.

Natasha could barely wait before she was up and stumbling toward Steve's office. She hadn't completed her earlier search before her legs gave out. She knew that Clint trusted Steve, which said a lot. However, she just couldn't believe that someone could be this good, this loyal; there must be a dark side. Until she met that side, she didn't know how far she could trust him.

Steve's office was extremely neat, efficient, and sparse. A desk, a bookcase, closet, and Natasha noticed a chair and small easel by a window giving a clear view of the immense amount of flowers in the back yard. She examined the bookcase, finding mostly history and art books but also ones on archery, engineering, Norse mythology, physics, and Russian intelligence. "Better to know your friends, or better to screw over your enemies, boy scout?" Natasha asked the four walls. Next, she checked to closet, which seemed to be more for storage of art supplies and his shield. On a shelf just out of Natasha's reach were what appeared to be several spiral bound books and a battered old shoe box. She didn't want to risk trying to climb on a chair to reach it before he got back so she moved to his desk.

Natasha had already checked most of the contents before so it just takes her a minute or two to rifle through the drawers. She took a look at the cell phone and realizes she has about 20 minutes before Steve is expected back, enough time to give his bedroom a search. She starts to head out of the room when she looks up at the pictures on the wall above Steve's desk. First she notices the framed photo of Steve and Coulson. Next she notices that all the framed clippings contain pictures of the rest of them. She reaches out to touch the picture of Clint. It's out of focus but she knows it's him by the outline of his uniform, the quiver of bows on his back. He must have been walking away when the photo was snapped, she thinks. She'll have to show it to him when he gets back. They'll get him back; there is no doubt in that. She worries about if all of him will come back. The whole thing with Loki had been very hard on him. There were times afterward she wondered if he'd ever be 100% back to Clint, to Agent Barton, to Hawkeye. But he recovered, partly due to her efforts but she also knew having work was important. Being a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. had become important to him, no matter how many times it seemed that he ignored orders or back talked. But what about now; could he or any of them trust S.H.I.E.L.D. again?

Her eyes moved from Clint's picture, to Tony Stark hamming it up for the camera, as usual. Then moved on to Dr. Banner's shy smile and frightened eyes, a sharp contrast to Thor's beaming smile and a posture that exuded power and confidence. Lastly, her eyes fell upon a photo of herself. One she wouldn't recognize if not for the red hair and the assumption that she would be included. She must have been turning away when it was taken, her hair partially covers her face and the parts not covered are blurred. "It could be anyone," Natasha thinks, "Just a colored blob in the crowd put into a pretty frame."

* * *

"Nichego (nothing), that is your name now. Nichego, I will make you a lump of clay. Broken, quivering blob of flesh, begging for me to mold into something so much better than the wasted life you have lived." Natasha spits into Kolstov's face, in return he slaps her hard enough to cause her to twist against the restraints holding her above the ground. It has been at least a day since she was captured. Hours since she was stripped naked and hung by her wrists and forearms from one of the cross beams in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. She is already covered with welts and bruises. "You will regret that insolence as you will every moment previous and future until I let you be a person again, nichego."

"I am Natasha."

He slaps her again, this time splitting her bottom lip, "You are nothing. If you were anything, surely they would've rescued you by now. Good night, nichego." Kolstov punches her in the stomach, laughing as she attempts to double protectively over her stomach. "Drug her." he tells someone just out of Natasha's view, then turns and walks out of the room. Natasha feels a prick in her leg and then is unconscious.

* * *

Natasha's one hand was gripping the desk tightly, the other reflexively protecting her stomach. Heart racing and breath coming in ragged puffs, she tried to calm herself back down. "It's just a flashback, you can control this," she says aloud. But after another breath she was back in the warehouse again.

* * *

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Romanov so glad you could join us again. Nichego has worked very hard and has another beautifully created performance for you." It was day ten or eleven by Natasha's estimate, counting the times Kolstov said good morning or good night to her. But that can't be right; could she have survived this long without food or water? Maybe they are giving me IV fluids while I sleep, she thought.

Kolstov helped her mother to her seat. She hadn't tried to run to Natasha after the first time he brought them in. Kolstov had knocked her mother to the ground that time. Natasha pulled several muscles trying to get out of her restraints to get to him. Her father didn't move, there had been a gun to his head.

She knew they weren't her parents, didn't she? But here they were, she could see them, sort of, the room was dim and her one eye was closed from repeated punches. It sounded like them, but then how many years since she had heard their voices last? It was taking every bit of her strength just to stay alive and mostly sane, she just had to except it was them for now, no matter how much it cut at her soul that they had to be a witness to this.

"Tonight will be your daughter's greatest performance." Night? Natasha was sure it had been just minutes since they came in. Apparently she had passed out again, but for how long? "She will showcase her best weapon, her beauty." Natasha was confused about what was next to come. The day before Kolstov mentioned it would be an electrifying dance performance, Natasha endured hours of being shocked by cattle prods and other electrical current devices. And dance she did, back and forth trying to avoid the sharp stings of electricity. Eventually her attackers surrounded her so closely she couldn't get out there reach. Then it was just a convulsive dance of pain, unrelenting until she lost control of her bladder, a steady stream pooling on floor beneath her. That is when Kolstov called them to stop, that's when he sent her parents away. By the end, she had bitten her tongue bloody and screamed until her throat was raw and her voice came out a harsh whisper. She was let down from the restraints and dragged to a bed and drugged again. But she was still Natasha, no matter what Kolstov called her.

A portable spotlight was turned on right in front of her. Natasha could no longer see her parents, but did notice shadows moving towards her. When they got closer she could see the hungry looks on their faces, some of them were already grabbing their crotches and making rude gestures, she knew what was going to happen next. They were going to rape her.

Natasha had been raped before, more than once. Twice it had been part of the mission, not for S.H.I.E.L.D, before that. She had always been able to leave the situation mentally, so didn't have much lasting trauma. It was hard for her to do that now. Too much was happening to send her thoughts anywhere but right here in the horrific moment. The smells of so many different colognes, deodorants, sweat, sour breath and chewing gum. The feel of caresses, slaps, pinches, punches and occasionally bites waged against every inch of her body. She was surrounded by the sounds of moans, curses, and grunts; of being called beautiful goddess, ugly red-headed bitch, and dirty whore simultaneously. She screamed for her mother and father to leave if they were still there. She didn't want them to see this. They had endured seeing so much happen to her but that had been about strength, how she could endure. This was to be different, she knew now Kolstov would not have them stop until they had stripped every bit of dignity away from her. If she could not get away mentally, she wasn't sure she would be Natasha, or anyone else on the other side.

A tongue shoves its way into her mouth. She bites down on it and she is punched in the stomach making her let loose of the tongue. Then she is punched in the face so hard her head snaps back. She hopes it's enough to knock her out but she is unlucky. A hand is around her throat, she doesn't resist, hoping for the bliss of blacking out. But just as the blackness starts around the edges of her vision the hand is removed. They know what they are doing, she thinks, just another torment.

Suddenly no one was touching her. She opened her eyes a moment before the rope holding her to the beam is cut and she falls to the floor, her bound ankles unable to support her weight. She took a breath and then a dozen men once again descended on her devouring her body and her mind.

* * *

Natasha couldn't catch her breath. She was on the floor of Steve's office again, this time without anyone to help her up and she had to get out of there. The walls felt as if they were closing in and there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. She managed to crawl over to the chair by the window. After a few tries she managed to leverage herself up to a good kneeling position and, putting all her weight on her good leg, to stand up. She looked out the window seeing the woods beyond the yard. No one will find me there, she thought.

Pure adrenaline kept her upright and she stumbled towards the back door, twisted the lock and headed outside. Two steps into yard her foot finds a root and she falls. Searing pain goes through her leg as she reopens part of the gash and reawakens sore and bruised muscles, but her mind tells her to keep going. She struggles to get up again but her legs aren't getting the message. Reaching out, grabbing clumps of grass, she slowly begins to pull herself across the yard.

Steve juggled the walker and a plate of scones in the same hand while opening the door. It seemed he was always bringing some baked good home with him whenever he visited neighbor. He was glad for his high metabolism considering most times he didn't have anyone to share the sweets with. "Mrs. Danvers sent along scones if you are still hungry… Romanov?" Steve looked to the couch where he had left her, she wasn't there but her guns where. Maybe she had simply gone to the bathroom. But still it would be unlike her to not take even one gun. Steve went to sit the scones on the kitchen table when he noticed his back door was open. His pulse raced. Had someone gotten in while he was gone and taken Natasha? He ran out the back door stopping suddenly when he spotted Natasha on the ground, crawling. "Romanov! Don't move you're going to hurt yourself worse." Steve runs to her side, kneeling down beside her and gently rolling her over on her back. Natasha starts to swing at him. "Don't fight me. I don't care how much you don't trust me I'm still going to help you. Why can't you understand that?"

"I don't really know who you are."

"How much did you really know Clint before he brought you in, stood up to Colson and Fury, risked his career and possibly his life for you?" Natasha didn't answer. "You had to just trust that he wouldn't suddenly turn on you. I've kept you at my home knowing my superiors are looking for you. I lied that I didn't know your whereabouts and I haven't turned you in. I've dressed your wounds, held you through your nightmares. If they come for you I will risk my life to make sure you are safe. Is that good enough Romanov? Can you trust me until this is over?" Natasha nods. "Okay Romanov…."

"Natasha…please."

"Okay, Natasha, I'm going to carry you to one of the chairs over there. You'll be the first to enjoy my new patio furniture." Steve looks down at her blood and grass stained dress. "I'm going to then go inside and grab supplies and deal with whatever you did to your leg. You will not move while I'm gone, understand?"

"Aye, Aye, Captain."

"Steve, please."

"Okay, Steve..." Natasha isn't sure if she's accepting help or admitting defeat, "I'll be a good little soldier."

"I don't want you to be a good little soldier. I want you to be Natasha, my broken little sister who trusts me."

"I…I'll try."

"It is all I can ask."


	6. Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me what happened those five days..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There still may be triggering events in this chapter as well. Song theme is "Stuck in a Moment" by U2

While Steve went back into the house Natasha leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and tried to rid the last vestiges of panic from her body. She listened to the birds, inhaled the myriad of floral scents that surrounded her, while letting the morning sun warm her face. It lasted for a few minutes before panic was replaced with a sense of urgency. Clint was still being held at S.H.I.E.L.D., they had to get him out of there. She wasn't worried about him telling her location, she knew how strong he was, but she didn't want him to have to endure this for her. She didn't want to owe another debt.

The back door creaks open and Natasha looks up to see Steve attempting to carry what seems like most of the house's contents. Both of his hands are full and his arms are cradling a stack of things that are obscuring the bottom half of his face. Hanging from the crook of his elbow is the borrowed walker banging against his leg, the door frame, and anything else in its path. Natasha starts to get up to help before everything topples onto the porch.

"Don't you dare get up Romanoff. That's an order. I've got this." With only a couple of stumbles Steve manages to get everything to the patio table with only one trip back to retrieve fallen items. "Mrs. Danvers didn't have crutches but she had this. She's got a collapsible one now but figured someone would need this one someday. I guess someday is today."

"I'm not an old lady."

"No you are someone who insists on not lying down and letting their leg heal. So you will be using this until it heals or we can get something better." Steve pulls a chair over so that he's facing Natasha. "Now put your leg up so I can see how much of my work you ruined." Steve is very gentle fixing the wound, keeping up a constant dialogue with Natasha as he goes through the steps. Warning her that the water he brought will be cold when he pours it on the wound. Repeatedly apologizing as Natasha curses through gritted teeth while he cleans the wound with antiseptic. Fussing over her to have at least a few bites of the scones he brought out and to take some more antibiotics and pain relievers. Natasha felt she should be mad at him but it just too much effort. Everything he did was so unassuming, everything he said just made so much sense you couldn't argue with him. It was that way with Coulson. You were all ready to fight, to not trust and next thing you knew you were doing exactly what he wanted.

"I think if Coulson had ever had a son, he would've been a lot like you."

Steve's face warmed, "That's a high compliment Natasha. I'm not sure I will ever be as good as he was."

"Phil wasn't all good, Steve. There was darkness there, but it was reserved for his enemies. Before this is all over, you may need to find that darkness in you. This isn't just something where you go in and break a few bones, this is mental, cat and mouse where no one is really sure who are cats and who are the mice."

Steve nodded, he didn't quite understand why no one seemed to think he ever had a bad thought. It's just that he chose not to act on them if it wasn't necessary and have rarely found it necessary.

"So," Natasha gestured toward the table. "What's with all the stuff?"

"We'll it seemed like you wanted to spend some time outside, so I figure, I'd bring stuff so we could be out here a few hours no problem. I can't stand being cooped up for too long myself; I'm thinking you probably have less patience with it than me. I wish you had waited until I got back though. It would've saved you some pain."

"I… I couldn't, just needed to get out in the fresh air." The panic was beginning to rise again as she replayed the morning in her head. Steve gave her a questioning look and she tried to school her face into a look of calm, failing miserably.

"You had another flashback didn't you?" Natasha nodded. "I should've made you some coffee before I left to keep you awake."

"I was awake, I was awake the whole time and it happened anyway."

"Oh Natasha…"

"I don't want you pity."

"I wasn't giving you any. I was just concerned that your flashbacks maybe getting worse, not better. Can you think of anything that may have triggered it? Was it being alone?"

"It was the picture… the one of me, in your office, the little fuzzy ball of nothing. That's what Kolstov called me, nothing. It was his new name for me. I was nothing because no one would come for me, that I was battered, bruised, used up, abandoned. Nothing from which he planned to create something better, something for his personal use." Natasha looked down into her lap, unable to meet Steve's gaze. "I'm a killer with so much blood on my hands that I'll never be able to wash away; nothing more… never nothing more."

Steve places his hand under her chin and pushing it up so that their faces are mirrored. "Don't let him win Natasha. You are so much more…" One of the phones rings on the table. "Dammit." Steve lets go of Natasha and retrieves the phone. He sits back down taking one of Natasha's hands into his squeezing it gently but not letting it go. "Yes."

"It's Hill."

"Please tell me you have some good news."

"Yes and no which do you want first?"

"Doesn't matter."

"We have a lead on Fury. We are working on establishing contact now."

"Okay."

"Strickland's team is on the way back to headquarters."

"How long?"

"Four hours, max." Steve took in a deep breath letting it out as a hiss.

"Anything we can do?"

"Be really careful. Trust no one unless I tell you to. Steve, this goes way beyond one egotistical handler."

"How far?"

"Council, at least one maybe two members, we don't know who yet."

"Not good."

"Not good at all Steve."

Hill disconnected and Steve sat the phone down taking Natasha's other hand into his. "I've got some good and bad…"

"Just tell me what's wrong. I may be going through…things, but don't treat me like a child."

"Okay. The good is that they have a lead on Fury. The bad is Strickland is headed in and council member or members may be behind all of what's been going on."

A small shiver was the only thing that betrayed Natasha's feelings. "You know what they will do to him."

"I know but we still have time, four hours."

"Always the optimist."

"Sometimes it's all you have."

Natasha kept trying to come up with plans of getting Clint out but Steve stopped her every time. "Our only jobs right now are to keep you safe, get you well, and to await further instructions."

"We are weaponless out here."

"No we are not," Steve says while retrieving Natasha's guns out of one of the bags. "I thought you would want them. Should I get my shield as well?"

Natasha looked around then nodded. "The trees are good cover but they are too far away if we are taken by surprise. With you shield I don't have to worry about covering you and can just focus on taking out targets."

"That's assuming if anyone comes."

Natasha snorts, "Optimist."

By the time Steve has retrieved his shield, Natasha is fast asleep. Steve pulls out one of his sketchbooks and a tube containing his drawing pencils. He flips through the pages until he gets to the backyard scene he had been working on earlier, before all this had started. He wants to do something besides sit and wait but that's all he can do right now. Natasha, whether she likes it or not, is still too vulnerable, mentally and physically. Will Clint be the same way when they get him back, will they go through this whole process with him as well? Steve didn't want to think about that. One problem at a time he told himself.

Steve tries to sketch the flowers in his yard but his gaze always returns to Natasha. He doesn't understand how she can think of herself no more than a killer. Maybe it was just the effects of this whole incident. Next to Clint, Steve admired Natasha most of the rest of the Avengers. She turned her life away from so much evil to come to S.H.I.E.L.D. not to mention risking death had Coulson or Fury not accepted her. She had fought so much for the right side now, how much more would it take for her to forgive herself for the past? But then Steve thought of Bucky and realized that he was the last person to throw stones at other's recovery.

Steve just stared at Natasha, examining every line, every bruise, every curve. He wishes he could show her what he saw. Of course he found her attractive, she was a beautiful woman, but he didn't desire her, his heart still only belonged to one. It was more of admiration and awe, of her stoic strength, her fluid movement in battle, her fierce determination. Even asleep, she reminded him of a tiger, seemingly calm and at rest, but if you look closely you could see just the slightest tension in the muscles, ready to strike at a moment's notice. A mere killer, never, she was a warrior, and yet behind that was a fragile soul that had seen and experienced too much, the side he had been taking care of, the part that made her human. Steve flipped the page in his sketch book and started a new drawing, one he hoped he would have mostly finished before she awoke.

It seemed that Natasha took a long time to stir awake but she was awake a few minutes before anyone would notice. Eyes closed, she took in all the sounds around her, birds, breeze, some skittering creature, the even breathing of Steve across from her, and a small scratching sound she couldn't quite identify but didn't perceive as a threat. Only then did she open her eyes enough to let Steve know she was awake if he hadn't been in deep concentration. She was in no hurry to disturb him; she wasn't ready to talk yet. She watches Steve until he looks up.

"Oh you are awake. Want some lunch?"

Natasha shook her head, "What are you drawing?"

"You. I had been drawing flowers but you are a much more interesting subject."

Natasha absently ran her fingers across her bruises and scars, across the grass and blood stained parts of her dress. "You have a morbid sense of interesting Rogers. I'm sure they will have plenty of pictures of this in my files, you can per…" Steve turned his work toward Natasha. "That doesn't look like me at all. Where are the bruises, the cuts, the singed hair, the…"

"They are temporary, not part of you. I can see all that superficial stuff right now. If I wanted a record of that I could've taken a photograph. I wanted you to see how I, Clint, and probably everyone else see's you. Not just a killer Natasha, but something much more complex and beautiful."

Natasha takes the sketchbook and places it in her lap, lightly tracing the lines. "Her eyes, they are terrifying."

"You've never been on the receiving end on one of your infamous glares, Natasha."

"And yet, they seem sad, haunted even."

"Yes, they are."

"The detail of this, it's so complex."

"Then I captured you correctly then?"

Natasha continued to move her fingers over the sketch, studying every detail. Occasionally she would touch a part of the drawing then a corresponding part on her body. Steve began to notice a tremor in her hand when she touched parts of her face. He caught her hand as she nervously started to run her fingers through her hair and placed it back on the sketch pad. "Not the superficial."

"So this is how you all see me. I bet I don't look this way now."

"No. But that will change."

"How?"

"Tell me what happened those five days. Tell me how you didn't let Kolstov turn you into a nothing."

"I don't know if I'm ready."

"Are you tired of the flashbacks, tired of being scared, tired of not being ready to help Clint."

"Dammit Rogers you know I am."

"Then you are ready."

Natasha took a deep, shuttering breath and began. "It's embarrassing, they caught me using the oldest trick in the book, a falling baby carriage…"

Natasha relayed the details of her capture, the layout of the warehouse, as close as she could remember, a description of Kolstov and her imposter parents. She detailed the cattle prods and the gang rape, never taking her eyes off Steve. He continued to reflect the same calm, encouraging look the whole time, nodding in all the appropriate places. Never betraying the heart break and nausea he felt inside about the whole situation. "I can be sick later," he told himself, "Maybe I'll even cry, but now she needs me."

"The next morning, well I guess it was morning, I see now how he manipulated the time for me, I was still on floor. All the men were gone; I was covered in blood and other secretions. Kolstov tells me good morning and throws a bucket of ice water on me, telling me that I should clean myself up since my parents were there. I did what I could to get myself clean with the water still left on my body but it was pointless. Kolstov lead me to a chair between my parents in front of a television. On it he played a recording of the previous, night's…session. Except you can't hear my screams, the audio has been replaced with pornography I suppose, to make it seem like I enjoyed every minute of it. I didn't believe it, I still had my brain, I knew what happened. My parents though, they were convinced it was the real thing…"

"They were imposters, Natasha. They probably were paid to believe whatever Kolstov told them to. I'm sorry I interrupted. Please continue."

"When it was over they berated me about what I, what Kolstov had had done to me. Said I was a disgrace, that I wasn't their daughter, and that they could never live with the shame…" Natasha froze, her eyes began to fill with tears, filling to the top of her lids then spilling over in a continuous stream down her face. Steve noticed a shaking starting at her hands, he reached out to hold them but she began grabbing at her hair, patting, yanking at it, then the screaming came. Heart wrenching screams that were so loud they had to have hurt Steve as much as they hurt her. Steve pulled her into a tight hug, kneeling on the ground in order to hold her while she was still in her chair. He tried to pin her arms while holding her but it was nearly impossible, so many things were going on with her then, all of them wrong.

"Natasha, Natasha, focus on me. It's okay. You are here and you are safe. Focus on my voice Natasha." He managed to pin one of her arms down; the other was still yanking at her hair, succeeding to pull a few strands each time. "You are stronger than this. Focus on my voice. Focus on Captain Rogers's voice." She stopped screaming, but still was trembling, still frantically yanking at her hair.

"Captain Rogers?" Natasha was still in the flashback and not. Steve took a gamble on bringing her back.

"Yes, Black Widow. I need you to report on what you are seeing there." Steve could almost feel the walls around Natasha's fragile psyche build back up. For the next few minutes a cold stillness overtook her. She turned to look at him giving one of her infamous glares. He let go of her and sat back down in his chair. "Report."

"The imposter parents got up to leave. The exit was behind me and at the time I was emotionally unable to look where they had gone to. Approximately two minutes later I heard a whooshing sound then felt heat against the back of my body. The room was suddenly brighter and I realized that something was on fire. I got up to run away from the source of the flames when I looked back and realized… I realized that two persons were engulfed in flame. At that time I assumed they were my parents and I ran recklessly toward the fire in an attempt to save them. Kolstov stopped me before I could get to the fire, but in the struggle my head must have been flung forward and my hair was ignited by the flames. He managed to beat the fire out. Then he cut away most of the burned parts, trying to salvage my looks I suppose."

One of the cellphones started to ring. Steve let it ring he couldn't bring himself to move.

"You should answer it. It's not going to be a social call."

"Hello."

"Steve, we've been compromised. They are coming for you and Romanov. You have maybe twenty minutes to get away from there. Don't stand and fight, to many of them. You will meet Stark on your road, five miles west. He'll bring you to us."

"How's Clint?"

"With Strickland, I… I'm sorry."

"You did the best you could, we'll get him back."

"Right now you got to get out there."

"We are leaving now."

"Romanov we got to leave. I need you to throw whatever we absolutely need into one bag. I'm going to get my keys and my bike. I hate to make you ride with that leg, but we have no choice." Steve was off to the house before Natasha could answer. She busied herself dumping medicines and medical supplies into one of the two small bags. She hated to, but she set the safeties on her guns and included them in the bag as well, she couldn't hold onto them while on the bike. Pulling the bag off the table she turned to see Steve's sketchpad on the ground. She bent down and tore the page with her portrait out of the book, folded it carefully and put it in the bag as well.

Ten minutes later they were on the road.

Fifteen minutes later, agents were breaking down Steve's front door.

Twenty minutes later, Steve's house was completely trashed.

At the same time, Steve was hiding his motorcycle in a wooded area before joining Natasha in Stark's limousine.

Thirty minutes later, they were on a small airfield taking Starks private plane to an island off the coast.

An hour later, Strickland still hadn't gotten Agent Barton to talk.


	7. Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay I need schematics of headquarters with likely locations of enemies, allies, and Barton."

Ascending the steps to the plane, Tony's nose had mostly stopped bleeding and he was a comfortable distance away from Natasha. In the limo, he had let his thoughts come out of his mouth and a "you look like hell" was met with a quick punch to the face. Steve saved him from a broken nose by pulling Natasha back while she was in mid-swing.

This whole situation pissed Tony off. He knew nearly nothing about what was going on. Agent Hill called him out of the blue telling him that Steve and Natasha were about to be under siege and needed a way out. Then she proceeds to asks if she and some other agents could use one of his vacation homes as a base of operations. Any time he tried to get a clear picture of what was going on she had told him they were in crisis mode and that there wasn't time. When Hill suggested that he should get Ms. Potts to a secure location until everything was over Tony decided that for the moment it was best to just do what she asked. He'd have some words with Hill and Fury later.

Natasha was off to sleep within minutes of takeoff. Steve was a little concerned considering how long she could stay up on a mission. "Is Banner going to be available when we get there? I'm worried that the little I've been able to do for her wound isn't helping."

"Yeah, of course he will. Now will you kindly tell me what the fuck is going on? Where's bird boy? Why aren't we going to S.H.I.E.L.D.? Where is that moron of a handler they saddled us with?"

"I'm sure Agent Hill will explain everything."

"Your girlfriend isn't telling me anything, kept telling there wasn't time."

"Agent Hill is not my girlfriend."

"I've heard you two are dating. So I thought…"

"We went out for coffee; she helped me figure out the paperwork with buying the house. We are friends."

"Yeah, whatever. We are going to be in the air for a bit here, taking the roundabout way to the island since apparently something big is going on even if I'm being kept out of the loop. Oh no, let's just bring in Stark when we need a place to crash. What am I, Holiday Inn? So fill me in on the shitstorm I'm being brought into."

"Look Tony, I'm sorry you were kept out of the loop. Hill didn't want to involve more people unless we had to. Romanov was on a mission that went badly. She was kidnapped and tortured for five days before they got her back. Back at headquarters our "handler" barely let her get treatment before he took her into the interrogation room. When Strickland was called in Barton rescued Romanov and they both came to stay with me because no one would think I would harbor fugitives, even if they were my own team. Barton was captured trying to get medical supplies for this really bad leg wound she has. Today someone figured out she was at my place and are probably tearing it apart as we speak."

Tony's mouth was moving a few seconds before he actually got out a coherent sentence; he had a hundred questions he wanted to ask. "Who's got Hawkeye and where the fuck is Fury? He should be fixing this."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has Clint, well at least the members that are supporting that bastard handler. There is a major division going on Tony. It's hard to tell who is on what side. I know we can trust Hill but other than that, I've been too far out to be able to know who's safe. And it's not just agents we have to worry about; he's got council support as well, one, maybe two of the members. We are trying to find Fury; his absence is too convenient to be coincidence."

"Maybe I'm missing something here but I'm not seeing why any of this happening in the first place. An agent is kidnapped and tortured so instead of debriefing her, you interrogate her and then bring in your own torture experts? I'm assuming they think she went rogue, but if she did would her new compatriots have done this to her?" Tony gestures toward Natasha, trying not to look again at how bad she looks.

"This doesn't even begin to cover what was done to her Tony. But I agree with you, none of it makes sense unless… Well this Kolstov guy told her he planned to break her down to nothing and to rebuild her as an obedient killer loyal to him. What if he wasn't working alone..."

"That this whole mission was to turn Natasha rogue? What is with everyone wanting to mind rape the Avengers, first Loki with Barton and now Romanov?"

"We don't know that yet."

"Tell me it doesn't make sense. So what do we know about this guy?"

"All I know is she knew him from childhood and they were trained together."

"And he either has balls the size of Mars or he's insane to think he could break Black Widow. I mean she's definitely taken some physical damage but it took a god to break Hawkeye and even that didn't stick." Tony shakes the mental image out of his head. "So is Kolstov still alive? Has anyone interrogated him?"

"I don't know, been too busy keeping her alive and sane to ask. I'm not sure any of our team even knows his name. I'm hoping that now will be all together maybe we can figure this out and get Clint back."

"So what happened to her?"

"That story is for her to tell."

From the landing strip to the vacation house was only a few minutes and Pepper was there to meet them at the door. Tony was going to keep her in Stark tower but figured it was quicker to bring her along than try to explain the little he knew of what was going on.

"I'm glad you're here, this place is getting chaotic … oh." Pepper turns away from the door, towards the kitchen area beside the living room. "Banner, get your ass out here now. Tony what room can he use for her?"

"Master bedroom on this floor."

Banner walks into the living room with a cup of coffee and an annoyed expression. "What…Romanov you look like hell." This time Natasha doesn't have the energy to punch him. "Well you two look clean. What, did you do use her as a shield?"

"Dial back the green Bruce, this apparently happened while she was a hostage for five days. Apparently we've been kept out of the loop of a lot of stuff. Cap here was filling me in on the ride over. Get her stabilized I'll bring you up to speed later."

Pepper takes Bruce's coffee "You are going to have to carry her."

"I'm not a child, Ms. Potts, I don't need to be carried." Natasha had meant it to come out strong but it took too much effort.

"Ms. Romanov, you have gone from pale to grey in this short period of time," Pepper pointedly stares at the floor "And you are bleeding pretty steadily on very expensive Italian tile. So Bruce is going to carry you because you are going to pass out soon, believe me, I've seen Tony do it enough times."

Bruce has just enough time to lift her up before she's unconscious. Pepper points the way to the bedroom. Steve reluctantly hands Pepper the bag, knowing that he really can't do any more for Natasha at this point. "There are some medical supplies in here. The wound on her upper thigh is the issue; it needs stitches and is probably infected. I did what I could, I hope it was enough."

"He'll fix her Rogers. Don't worry." Pepper turns and follows after Bruce.

"Thank god you all made it. Is she going to be okay?" Maria says entering the living room.

"I hope so, if Bruce can stabilize her leg then I think she'll be fine. All the stress of the motorcycle ride I think reopened the wound."

"So," Tony says getting right to the point, "is there time now to talk about what's going on and how we are going to get bird boy and cyclops back?"

"We were about to discuss that in your den." Hill turns and walks off, Tony and Steve following closely behind.

Hill was starting the briefing right as Tony and Steve entered the room. "Okay folks we are working against the clock here, Agent Barton's safety is at stake not to mention Director Fury, since we have no idea of his current status. All of you know Stark and Rogers. Agent Romanov is being seen to by Dr. Banner. Ms. Potts has security clearance for this situation; you may speak freely around her. This is not all of us, we have people who are in the field all over the world, but please check with me first before making contact. So let's get to what we know, which is not much since we can't access S.H.I.E.L.D. computers without the Turncoat knowing. We know nothing about Romanoff's last mission except for the location. It seems everyone on that mission was under Turncoat's orders, except for Romanoff."

"Well that explains why Hawkeye wasn't her backup," Steve nods. "We have any idea why or how they got her back out?"

"Wasn't them. It was a team Fury sent in. I remember him being very upset about Turncoat losing Romanov. By day three he sent his own team in to find her. That was the last day I heard from him. The team said they heard from him the day they closed in on the warehouse but nothing since then. They are in their own bolt hole right now. I can contact them if necessary."

"What do you know about Kolstov?" Tony asked.

"The kidnapper? Nothing more than a name and that he's connected to several terror cells but mostly as supplier, not sure why he switched to kidnapping. He's a recent player, but his history before now is really sketchy. It would help if we had database access."

Tony sighs with all the loudness of a bored teenager. "JARVIS, search for anything on Kolstov, first name…"

"Ivan." Steve added. "was trained alongside Natasha Romanov prior to her coming to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Stark you can't do this; they'll trace your search."

"Hill, relax. JARVIS how many times has S.H.I.E.L.D. attempted to access STARK Industry computers?"

"During what time period sir?"

"Overall."

"1,853 times sir."

"How many times have they succeeded?"

"Zero sir."

"Are we good Hill?"

"Fine Stark."

The next twenty minutes everyone is firing questions at Tony to ask JARVIS. Many theories are thrown around including the one that Tony and Steve came up with on the plane, which at the moment was looking the most feasible.

Pepper appears in the doorway, face flushed, hair in disarray, "Captain Rogers I need your help right now. Why the hell would you leave her guns in the bag?"

"What's wrong?"

"Besides the fact you left an injured psychopath with weapons? She wants in here to help. Banner doesn't want her walking and wants her to rest. He's been restraining her and attempting to sedate her but she somehow got past him and reached into the bag and pulled out freaking guns! They are at a standoff right now. I don't think she'll shoot him because he may change but this much stress it may happen anyway and I really like this house. So if you could come get her now, that would be perfect!"

Steve hurriedly leaves the room on the heels of Pepper who is continuing to berate him. Tony chuckles quietly to himself, thankful to not be the one on the receiving end of Pepper's tirade.

"You have a phone call, sir."

"This really isn't a good time JARVIS, who is it?"

"Director Fury, sir." All the noise in the room stops.

"Are you sure JARVIS?"

"I have already confirmed voice pattern, also confirmed visually since he's currently in the lobby of Stark Tower."

"Patch him through. Fury, you one-eyed son of a bitch, where the hell have you been hiding?"

"I don't have time for your shit, Stark. I need to be in your private quarters five minutes ago, I got ten hostiles on my tail and no time to explain."

"Not a problem, I actually know what's going on; head to the private elevator, JARVIS will take care of the rest." Fury disconnects from Stark and runs to the elevators.

"JARVIS, give Fury access to the guest and common areas but labs are off access and record any computer or phone usage."

"Yes sir."

"Also, institute a full lock down on Stark Tower, no one in or out unless we really know who they are. Anyone flashing a S.H.I.E.L.D. badge gets detained. Send their info to my laptop here."

"Of course."

Steve enters the room with a squirming Black Widow in his arms and sits her gently on one of the love seats. "Don't move if you want to remain part of this. When Dr. Banner calms down enough that he can be around you, you will do as he says." Steve collapses back into his space next to Tony on the couch.

Tony arches an eyebrow at Steve, "Woman trouble?"

Steve glances up from his notes long enough to glare at Tony. "Do you want a broken nose instead of just a bloody one?"

"Okay, shutting up."

"Sorry Tony, just ansty, I'm sure we all are. Need to be doing something. We need to at least get Clint out now, before he's hurt even more. Then focus on finding Fury. We can figure out motive later. Hell I don't really care about motive; I just want to get my bro… team member back."

"Totally agreeing with you here. The good thing is that we've already taken care of part of that. We have Fury."

"What? When?"

"Few minutes ago, he just ran into Stark Tower. Right now he's raiding my fridge. He should be up for talking in a couple of minutes."

As if on cue Fury voice booms into the room, through JARVIS, throwing orders like he's been there all along. Mostly he's wanting a headcount and to be brought up to speed on what had been going on.

"Why isn't Agent Barton with you?"

"He's currently captured and being interrogated by Strickland, sir." Steve responded.

"I know that Captain Rogers, Agent Hill made that clear. What I want to know is why you haven't gotten him back?"

"Well sir, we've been in separate locations with limited contact until now." Steve clears his throat nervously, "Also, I was trying to hold out until Romanoff was able to be part of the mission. I know that puts Barton in danger, but he took a great risk getting her out. I've got to assume that's what he would want me to do."

"Romanov, are you ready?"

"Yes, Director Fury."

"With all due respect, sir," Steve can't bring himself to look in Natasha's direction. "Her injury makes her a liability on the front lines; I suggest an auxiliary position."

"I'm not staying here when you get Clint."

"Didn't say you were but I can't save you both."

"I'm not asking you too."

"You haven't asked me this whole time but it hasn't stopped me yet."

"Children!" Fury bellowed over the speakers, "We don't have time for this. Barton doesn't have time for this. Rogers, create a plan that will get us in and Barton out. Romanoff, Rogers is your commanding officer in this situation; you will follow his orders, understood."

"Yes sir."

"Rogers, how much time you need to come up with a plan."

"Thirty minutes tops sir."

"Make it fifteen. Stark is there some way we can talk privately, we need to get me out of Stark Tower and to your current location."

"JARVIS, redirect Fury's call to my cell."

"Okay I need schematics of headquarters with likely locations of enemies, allies, and Barton. Then I need everyone out of the room but Romanov," Steve finally looks at her to find her glaring at him, "We need to talk." With the help of JARVIS the rest of the team is able to pull together what Steve needs fairly quickly. Soon the room is empty except for Steve and Natasha, who is sitting stoically still, turning her head to stare blankly at the wall.

Steve walks over to Natasha, "Do I get to explain myself or are you just going to wall me off and follow orders." Natasha doesn't turn to look at him. "I thought everything we've gone through would've changed your attitude towards me but I guess not."

"I thought the same way, until what you said to Fury."

"I'm concerned about getting everyone in and out in one piece."

"You made me look weak."

"Physically, right now you are. You can't stick your head in the sand about that Natasha. I'm not saying you can't do anything I was just making sure Fury knew you aren't going to be the one kicking down the door. He needs to know what's going on with all his agents. No matter how stubborn they are being. I thought he was coming up with the plan so I didn't want him have you try to do something you couldn't." Steve gently lifts Natasha's legs up enough so he can slide in and sit at the opposite end of the love seat. He absently begins rubbing her cold bare feet. "Natasha, I would've made sure Fury included you somewhere. You are an integral part of my plan. You will be there when we rescue him. He's going to need to see that you are okay… I need you … too be there." Steve freezes, he hadn't meant to say that aloud. He hopes she didn't hear him, didn't realize the slight desperation in his voice when he said it. He risks a look at her face. The slight widening of her eyes and the smirk on her face, tells him not only did she here him, she could read his feelings behind it. "I, I, this is very much spy work and of course I would need you out there."

Natasha reaches for Steve's hand and pats it gently, "You need to finish your plan, don't want to keep Fury and the rest of the team waiting."

"Right, I should do that." Steve gets up and moves back to his notes and maps. "Natasha?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Clint."

"Is there something to tell?"

Steve is silent for a few seconds then sighs, "No, there is nothing to tell." Steve finishes his plan within Fury's time constraints; mainly because it's a simple extraction, but also he had been thinking about it from the moment he knew Clint was captured. He leaves the room to gather the rest of the agents; he is too embarrassed to look at her right now. If he had he would've known her eyes followed him all the way out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury's song is Old Man down the Road by John Fogerty. When I pictured him walking into Stark Tower that song was in my head. Mainly because I'm sure he was pretty pissed and scary looking. Steve's song for the chapter is Look After You by the Fray.


	8. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...if anything happened to Natasha he'd never forgive himself. If she got hurt or worse, whatever Clint would do to him wouldn't be a fraction of what he would do to himself mentally. But she wanted to be here, he needed her to be here. He believed that they were the only ones truly worried about getting Barton out in one piece."

"Are you insane?" Bruce and Natasha said nearly simultaneously.

It was the best that Steve could hope for. He knew they weren't going to be crazy about the idea but he knew it would work. "No, just hear me out. Romanov you want in there but your leg is going to slow you down so having Bruce carry you…" Natasha glared at Steve, "Or let you lean against him so you can limp in would help. Everyone knows what shooting Banner or getting him angry will do so they aren't going to be exactly rushing at you two coming in. Besides as far as they know he hasn't been involved in this so for him to bring you in for treatment will seem logical." There was grumbling but no one spoke in disagreement of the plan.

"The rest of us will come in the back way. There is a vent here," Steve continues, pointing to the blueprints, "This goes to a single stall bathroom near the service entrance. Someone will need to go in through here and let us in. We'll need to take out cameras but hopefully everyone will be focused on Banner and Romanoff and what's going on with Barton that they won't be monitoring the rest of the building. Banner, you will get them to take Romanoff to medical, it's near the interrogation rooms. Don't ever let her out of your sight. Once you get to medical, disarm your escorts and head toward interrogation, we'll meet you there."

"What if they have moved Barton back to the holding cells?" Hill asks.

"I was going to send Stark and a team of three down there. I don't think he'll be there but we need to cover that to make sure." Steve continued explaining details and handing out assignments. "We are going to have to be real precise in our timing since we really can't communicate. Also keep in mind that we are disarming not trying to kill anyone. These are our fellow agents, not everyone inside may be under…Turncoat's command. And even those that are may just be confused since Director Fury has been missing. That's all I got, anything to add sir?"

"Stark how much time do you need to pick me up?" Fury stated.

"Twenty minutes tops."

"Okay. Factor that time into your plan Rogers, Stark and I will meet you at the service entrance."

"Yes sir. Tony where do we need to drop you off so that you can get to Fury?"

"Nowhere," Tony says taping the oddly shaped suitcase at his feet. "I've got my own transportation."

* * *

Steve looked at his watch, Bruce and Natasha should have been going through the front door of S.H.I.E.L.D. at that moment. He sighed deeply, if anything happened to Natasha he'd never forgive himself. If she got hurt or worse, whatever Clint would do to him wouldn't be a fraction of what he would do to himself mentally. But she wanted to be here, he needed her to be here. He believed that they were the only ones truly worried about getting Barton out in one piece. Whatever else he felt about her would have to wait until all this was over.

* * *

Bruce managed to convince Natasha to let him carry her in. He wanted her off the leg as much as possible, hell he wanted her in Tony's guest room heavily medicated and asleep but obviously that wasn't going to happen. Bruce's logic that carrying her would allow him to cover her with a blanket and she could hide her guns underneath seemed to work. Natasha was pretending to be passed out, to ease any confrontation with staff so he had to struggle getting into the main doors by himself.

Ten steps in Bruce and Natasha were met by two men with guns.

"Stop right there, hands where I can see them."

"I can't really move my hands without dropping the lady, and she's injured enough already. I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, this is Agent Natasha Romanov, she's injured very badly and needs immediate medical assistance."

"Place her on the ground and we'll take it from here, Dr. Banner."

"I don't think so. She's my team member and patient. I will sit her down when I'm placing her on a bed in front of a competent medical professional."

"Don't make me shoot you."

"You won't shoot me. You know why?" Bruce starts moving forward. "Because I'm Dr. Banner. You know my story, you know what happens when I get angry and I assure you, shooting me makes me very angry."

The one agent lowers his gun and motions the other to do the same. "I was on the Helicarrier when he became the green guy. There is not enough room in here to get away... Follow us Dr. Banner."

* * *

Tony landed with Fury three blocks away from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters so they wouldn't be seen by the building's external cameras. Fury also might have needed the walk to regain his composure after being flown from the roof of Stark Tower.

"Not one word Stark, not one fucking word."

"What? I thought you did really well for your first time." Fury stopped walking long enough to give Tony a murderous stare. "But no one need know anything about it."

With the help of JARVIS they were able to make it to the back service entrance with less than a couple of seconds of being in the sweep of the security cameras. Once they had joined Steve and the rest of the team the vent cover was already open and a pair of feet was sticking out of it. "Okay Banks you can head in now." Steve called up to the agent in the vent shaft. About five minutes later the agent was opening the door and letting them in.

* * *

Bruce laid Natasha down on one of the beds in the medical room. The doctor on call quickly shooed the other agents out and closed the door. Walking over to Bruce he whispered directly into his ear, "Why the hell did you bring her back here?"

"We are not the only one's here doc."

The doctor was visibly relieved. "I've tried to get in to see Agent Barton several times, I'm usually supposed to be in the room during those… sessions but they won't let me in."

"We're going to get him out."

"Both of you? Has she healed that much? I got to see her briefly when she first came back from her kidnapping, and she didn't look good at all."

"She's not 100% by any means but are you going to tell her no?" The doctor's eyes widened and he shook his head. "We need to get out of here and down to the interrogation room."

"I can see that but there is the problem of the two gentlemen with guns outside the door. They aren't going anywhere as long as she's in here."

Bruce walks over to Natasha, still pretending to be unconscious. "It's okay Romanoff, he's on our side, and he's going to help us get out of here."

Natasha opens her eyes, glances at the doctor and then back to Bruce, "How?"

"I have a plan but I'll need one of your guns."

Natasha hands Bruce the gun, "Don't screw this up Banner."

* * *

The rest of the team arrives at the point they are to split up. "Do a quick sweep, if you don't find Barton down there, head toward the interrogation room. We should be there a few minutes before you unless we encounter resistance," Steve reminds Tony.

"So basically I'm getting sent on a fool's errand while you get to party with the bad guys."

"Not necessarily Stark. We are flying blind here. I'm betting he's in interrogation, if he's not we are heading your way and being your back up. Besides it doesn't matter who rescues him, as long as we get him out of here."

"And kick that fucking handler's ass in the process."

The smile that spread across Steve's face Tony would've described as just this side of evil. "Let's move out."

* * *

"Hey, hey you out there I need help!" The doctor yelled. Seconds later the agents came running in to find Natasha thrashing on the medical table. "I need you to hold her down." The agents move forward to help, but one notices Dr. Banner in the far corner with his back turned.

"Why isn't he helping?"

"He's prepping a sedative for Romanoff, the stress of trying to hold her down was upsetting him too much. Now help me so she doesn't injure herself more." The doctor was managing to keep her arms down so the agents each took a leg, trying to pin it to the bed as Natasha continued to thrash. Suddenly, one agent lets go of her leg and collapses to the floor. The other agent turns to find Bruce standing near him with a gun pointed at his head.

"You have two choices, let me tranquilize you or I can hit you in the back of head with this gun like I did your friend."

"I can get to my gun faster than you can do either of those."

Natasha sat up pointing her gun at the agent, "But are you faster than me?"

The agent puts his hands up. "Okay, I'll take the needle. Dr. Banner, I never took you for a traitor."

"I'm not a traitor, neither is she. Someone has sold a bunch of lies."

* * *

With help from JARVIS, Tony's team is able to exploit blind spots in the security camera coverage and avoid occupied areas on their way to the holding cells. Tony considers sending Fury a report detailing the holes in S.H.I.E.L.D. security but decides he may need to use them later. As expected Barton is not there but the cells are occupied with other agents.

"We'll come back and get you later," Tony tells the imprisoned agents. "I've got a plan that if you don't have a gun you're probably going to be safer in a cell." The rest of his team all give him looks that border on scared or angry that they got stuck on his team. "Hear me out first. By the time we get to the interrogation room the other team will be fully engaged with Dumbo's goon squad. The less people they have to fight to get to Barton the better. So we are going to create a disturbance. No more hiding folks we are bringing Mardi Gras to the battle. Make as much noise, show up on as many cameras as possible and keep your eyes peeled for hostiles. As Cap said, don't kill them but we got to keep them away from interrogation. Got it?"

* * *

Steve was only a little intimidated having both Fury and Hill on his team but he figured no one else would want Fury breathing over their shoulder. He still felt like his Avenger Initiative team was looked at as a bunch of dysfunctional adolescents and figured this would be an opportunity to show that they could get it together when it counts.

"Hill, how far before we reach the interrogation rooms?"

"Couple minutes, if we take the direct route…" Hill's response drifted off into a hum.

"Would you like to suggest another route?"

"Well I was thinking, if Banner and Romanov are going to be coming from medical, if we came at it through the administrative offices we will end up in the other end of the hallway from where they enter interrogation. If we go through supply that hallway will be perpendicular to their location and we would just have to hope they are there, we wouldn't have any way of knowing. And besides if Stark's team makes it up in time, they will already be going through supply so we'll all be in the same hallway."

"Your plan makes a lot of sense, thank you."

"I'm going through supply; I'll meet up with Stark's team." Fury interjected.

"You don't have a gun sir." Steve responded.

"Which is why I'm going to supply, I feel naked out here without something."

"At least take another agent with you as backup until you have a weapon." Steve figures him, Hill, and one other agent will be enough if they get to interrogation before everyone else.

Fury steps right up to Steve's face "Do I give you the impression I need back up?"

"No sir. Okay team, follow Hill. Good luck sir."

* * *

Tony and his team were almost to the hallway that would lead to the interrogation rooms. Their noisy escapades had netted them a good dozen captures. So far they hadn't had to shoot, since the agents they encountered where either alone or with one other person, either way they knew they were outmatched against Iron Man and his team. The first two they had to knock unconscious, once they were able to raid the supply area, they simply zip tied and gagged the rest.

Since they didn't know how many agents were on the other side Tony could only hope that they had taken a large amount out of the game, they would know soon enough.

* * *

Natasha borrowed a crutch from the medical area which still allowed her to carry a gun, Bruce had the other. They hadn't encountered anyone so far and she was hoping that if all the other agents were stationed at interrogation that Steve and Tony's teams got there before they did. She only had so many bullets and she really didn't want an appearance by Bruce's not so little friend.

She had to force herself to move slowly, she was so ready for this to be over, ready to get Clint out and try to forget this mess ever happened or the mess that she was going to have to deal with later. Steve. No matter how he had tried to cover it up she knew he was looking at her in a different way now. She'd be lying if she didn't admit she felt differently too. But now was not the time to even think about it, Natasha shook her head hoping to throw away this line of thinking.

"You okay, Romanov?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, just trying to focus that's all."

Bruce took a quick look around the corner that led down the hallway to the interrogation room. "Two armed guys outside the room. I didn't see Rogers and others but for all I know they could be around a corner like us."

"We have to assume they are there or just a few minutes away. We have to create a distraction."

"How?"

Natasha pokes her gun at Bruce's side. "Walk."

* * *

Fury turned, gun drawn, as soon as he heard all the noise. He really wanted to take the opportunity to take a shot at Stark just because, but this was not the time, besides there were witnesses. Instead he made a quick gesture and the other agents quieted down, Stark followed suit about thirty seconds later. "What in the hell do you think you are doing?" Fury whispered.

"It's called creating a diversion." Tony replied.

"Well since we are within 100 feet of the target location I think drawing people here would be a bad idea. Don't you?"

"Oh…What are you doing here? I thought you were on Cap's away team."

"Needed to stop by supply and get me a new toy. Now everyone follow me, it's a long hallway so they'll likely see us before we get there, be prepared."

"Excuse me, this is my team, I'll tell them what to do."

"Stark this is not the time."

"Oh it's very much the time."

"Fine, your team, you tell them what to do."

"Okay… what he said was a good idea. Fury lead, I'll be behind him, everyone else behind me."

"Sure you don't want to be in front Stark."

"Fury I never want you behind me with a gun."

* * *

Hill risks a quick look around the corner. "I've got two agents who seem to be guarding the interrogation room and nothing else. We know there has got to be at least Turncoat, Strickland and his team in there. Not sure if he'd want any other witnesses."

Steve checks his watch. "Well, let's give everyone five minutes to get into position and then we'll move in."

"I hope everyone else is ready."

"So do I Hill, so do I."

* * *

"What the hell are you doing Natasha?" says a startled Bruce.

"Taking you to my comrades."

"You are a traitor. Romanov how could…"

Natasha sighs audibly, "Never done role-play have you Banner?"

"Huh? Oh… I'm such an idiot."

"Only if you can't convince them you're my prisoner." Natasha removes her other gun from Bruce's hand and with one gun pointed at his head, the other at his side, she leaves the crutch behind and heads down the hallway towards the interrogation room.

"Hold it right there, drop your weapons," one of the agents in front of the door commands.

"I've brought a prisoner."

"We know it's a trick, Romanov. You are still on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s side, we knew that when they first brought you in."

"I was… out of my head when I came back. I'm better now." Natasha pushes Bruce to continue moving a few steps closer, "Are you going to help me take Banner down to the holding cells or not?"

"I don't think so. Put down your weapons or I'll drop you."

"Really? If you shoot me, then you've lost your best new recruit. If you miss and shoot him, there is a good chance the monster comes out, and you are right in his line of sight. Do you want to risk that?"

"Why hasn't he changed already?"

"Because he's not sure if I'm lying to you or lying to him. Thanks to the good doctor in medical Banner has enough sedatives in him to bring down an elephant. If he were a normal man he'd be out for a day or two, instead he's just in a brain fog. One that will wear off soon and I'd like to have several layers of cell between him and me when that happens don't you?" The agents are having a discussion Natasha can't quite hear but they never take their eyes or guns off of her. "Look why don't you just get Agent," she tries to remove any bitterness in her voice as she says their handler's name, "Lewis out here. Apparently this decision is way above your mental capacity."

"Put down your weapons and I'll consider it."

"Not going to happen. Get Lewis and I'll consider it."

"You drop your weapons now Romanov and kick them towards me," One of the guards starts walking toward Natasha and Bruce. "I'll take possession of your prisoner; you will get down on your knees, and put your hands behind your head."

"I don't think so son." Steve's voice came from behind the guards. The other guard turned to point his gun at Steve to find he was instead facing down three guns and a super soldier. The sound of running came from the other hallway. The guard's hope of reinforcements died when Fury's voice ordered them to drop their weapons. Steve pushed past the other agents heading straight for the door of interrogation room. He and Fury reach the door at the same time.

"Are you going to open the door Fury or do I need to take it off the hinges," Steve snaps off, with a barely restrained growl.

"Captain Rogers, do not take that tone with me."

"Then don't let this happen to my team ever again."

"You don't order me around Captain Rogers." Nick Fury slides an override key in the slot and opens the door. Steve pushes past him and is stopped in his tracks by the tableau he's presented. Strickland stands against the wall casually smoking a cigar while one man stands with a large clear container full of water. Another man is crouched down behind a chair, holding down the towel that is wrapped around the tilted back head of the person sitting in the chair. The towel is dripping water into a metal tub beneath it. The person in the chair is bound to it with cord around their forearms and ankles. The bound person's arms are covered with cuts and soot-edged burn marks. Steve can't think for a moment that the person is Clint, lest he completely goes out of his mind with rage.

Fury steps in front of a frozen Captain America. "Strickland out. Take your goon squad with you."

"We are under orders," Strickland replies.

"Parsons is no longer," Fury paused for effect and slightly implied threat, "with the Council."

Strickland looks around at his crew, "Wrap up guys, apparently we are no longer needed." Strickland's crew begins picking up equipment and file out of the room. Before leaving Strickland cuts away the restraints and removes the towel from Clint's face. Clint takes in a deep ragged breath and before he can take another, Steve is at his side.

"Clint…Clint… Hawkeye!" Clint turns in the general direction of Steve but his head is bobbling like someone on a three-day bender. Water streams down his face in little rivers from his hair, from his nose, from his eyes, bubbling from his mouth. He tries to focus on the voice he hears and the familiar face he sees by it's all still surreal. Any moment he expects darkness again. He leans over coughing and spitting out water, the whole time he feels a comforting hand on his back. A small voice in his head is trying to tell him it's over, but he's heard those lies before.

Meanwhile Natasha enters the room spotting their turncoat handler, Lewis, in the corner slowly attempting to make a getaway while no one is looking. "You son of a bitch." In a few steps Natasha is on him with her guns pointed and pushed into his chest. Everything she experienced those five days comes flooding into her mind. Every part of her is trembling, except for her trigger fingers; they are as steady as ever and itching to put an end to Agent Lewis, turncoat, traitor.

"Romanov, stand down. I don't want to repaint the walls in here." Natasha doesn't even acknowledge Fury words but tilts her head as Lewis begins to look a lot like Kolstov to her.

"Try and make me nothing did you? I'll make you less than nothing; I will end your existence." Natasha moves her guns up so that they are pointed under Lewis' chin. Then she feels arms wrapping around her waist holding her close.

"Natasha, no. He's just a pawn; you don't want his blood on your hands." Steve removes one arm from her waist and slowly moves his hand up her arm and attempts to remove the gun from her hand. After a few attempts she releases her grip on the weapon. He takes the other gun as well. "It's over Natasha; we need to help Clint now," he says softly.

Natasha pulls her arm back and punches Lewis in the face and brings her knee up between his legs before stepping back to let him collapse on the floor. "Now it's over."

"Cap'… Nat?" Clint manages a strangled whisper before being wracked with coughs.

Natasha rushes past Steve and drops to her knees at Clint's side, taking his hand into hers, "I'm here Clint." Clint collapses forward into Natasha, putting his arms tentatively around her. "I was so scared I would fail you Nat. That I couldn't hold out until you were safe." Natasha pulls Clint into a close hug.

"You did more than I ever could ask, more than I ever deserve."

"You deserve more Nat." Clint looks up at Steve, clearing his throat "Thanks for taking care of her Cap'. I knew she was safe with you." Natasha and Steve exchange a look, Steve is the first to turn away.

"It's what a good soldier does, what a boy scout is taught to do."

Natasha grabs Steve's hand, "Not good soldier, Steve, not a boy scout, you are a good man. I'll never be able to repay the debt I owe for all you did for me."

There was a rather pointed clearing of the throat that came from near the entrance to the room. "I hate to break up this Kodak moment but Romanov and I need to have a debriefing and I'm sure medical would like to have a visit from Barton."

"He's not going to medical. I'm taking him home, sir." Steve turns staring Fury right in the eye. "I think Barton has spent enough time here lately, right Clint?"

"Absolofuckinlutely."

"So I'll be taken Barton with me. Dr. Banner can check him out. Stark will have someone pick up Nata… Romanov when you are finished debriefing her, if that is alright with Agent Romanov."

"It's acceptable."

Fury folds his arms across his chest, "Rogers, what did I say earlier about trying to tell me what to do?"

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do sir. I'm letting you know what my team needs."

"We'll discuss this later." Fury turns to leave the room.

"Noon tomorrow okay with you sir?"

"Fine. You better be glad I like you, Rogers. Romanov my office five minutes, let's get this debrief over with."

"Yes, sir."

Natasha helps Clint out of the chair and to his feet. "I'll get out of here as soon as I can. Steve will take good care of you," She turns to Steve, "won't you?"

"Of course."

Steve is still avoiding looking at her directly. Natasha runs her fingers along Steve's jaw and points his face to where he can't avoid seeing her eyes. "We will talk later." She smiles as she says it but Steve is convinced that his heart isn't going to want to hear anything she has to say.


	9. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is quiet as he searches within his head and his heart, a place he hasn't let anyone into in a long time. Finally the answer comes out with a sigh of resignation, "Yes, I meant it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter and I have to say I'm a little sad to see it ending. I hope I did the story justice. I think there is a definite possibility of a sequel but there are other stories demanding attention first. Songs for this chapter are Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol and Hand Me Down by Matchbox 20.

Steve and Bruce got Clint safely back to Steve's house. Opening the door he saw it was in the shambles he had expected. "Sorry they trashed your house," Clint whispered.

"You don't need to be sorry for anything. Let's just hope they kept the guest bed upright." After helping Clint into bed, leaving him in Bruce's care, Steve worked on getting his house back in some order. Most of the furniture was upright when the phone rang.

"Steve, its Natasha. Looks like I'll be staying at headquarters until tomorrow. Fury assures me if I let medical fuss over me tonight it will hasten my return active status."

"Okay…Natasha, about what I said earlier..."

"Not now, I don't want to have this talk over the phone."

"There is nothing to talk about, I was out of line, I shouldn't have said anything, I know you and Clint…"

"Did you mean it?"

"Huh?"

"What you said, did you mean it?"

Steve is quiet as he searches within his head and his heart, a place he hasn't let anyone into in a long time. Finally the answer comes out with a sigh of resignation, "Yes, I meant it."

"We'll talk about it soon Steve, I promise, but not on a phone. They want me to take a sedative so I should probably talk to Clint before they make me go to sleep."

"Sure."

"And Steve, you get some rest as well. I've put you through hell these last few days watching over me. Let Bruce watch over Clint for a while."

"I'll try." Steve took the phone to Clint and dragged Bruce into the kitchen with the promise of coffee.

"How's he doing Bruce?"

"Physically, fine so far. He's probably going to be sore for a day or so and will sporting a few new scars but nothing too damaging. I would like him to go in and have some tests run, just to make sure there is no brain or lung damage from the… water. Mentally, well I guess he survived Loki, this is probably a walk in the park."

"Well we'll know over the next couple of days I'm sure."

"How are you holding up? I'm still catching up on all the details but both you and Romanoff look like you've been through hell lately."

"She went through hell; I've just been helping her find her way back."

"You are a braver man than me. I'd fear for my safety around Black Widow."

"You, who has a rage monster inside, are afraid of Natasha?"

"If there is a way to kill me I'm sure she'll be the one to figure it out."

Steve shakes his head, "She's not as bad as everyone makes her out to be."

"Have you read her file?"

Steve snaps back, "Have you ever sat down and talked to her?"

"Hey chill, okay she may not be all that bad. But she does have an admirable kill record if you are into those things. I should probably check on Clint. If it's okay, I'd like to stay here tonight in case he has any complications."

"Yeah, sure," Steve says dismissively. "You can sleep in my room, I'll take the couch. I'm probably not going to sleep much anyway."

After one last check on Clint, Bruce dragged himself to Steve's room mumbling about being up the last 48 hours working on a prototype of something or other with Tony. Once Bruce closed the door Steve walked into the guest room, pulled a chair next to the bed and sat sentry over the sleeping Hawkeye. When the nightmares came, Steve was there with a gentle but firm hand, on Clint's shoulder, passing through Clint's hair, letting him know it's all over and he's safe.

The rest of the night was spent going over the conversation he planned on having with Fury the next day. In his head it seemed simple, but convincing Fury would be difficult. He figures if he keeps focused on the reasons behind request than it will make things easier. Still he practiced over and over answering imagined questions from Fury, making sure there were no weak points to his argument. Steve knew he was ready he just needed something to occupy his mind besides her.

He had no right to think about her like that. Looking over at a restless sleeping Clint, guilt overwhelmed him. He noticed Natasha's beauty the first time he saw her, who could not. Although she did scare him a bit, but somehow he could always see through all the armor she put up to mask the real her. But he saw how Clint looked at her. He knew the rumors about their relationship plus he still had unresolved issues surrounding Peggy, so he let his infatuation go. That was until the night she came to his doorstep injured and broken. From that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and make everything right again. And when he had unconsciously said that he needed her, he realized that no matter how much he had pushed it away, locked it somewhere way in the back of his mind, he had wanted her the whole time.

* * *

The next morning Steve tried to get back into his normal routine, a morning run to clear his head, followed by a visit to his neighbor to return the walker. He returned to the house with a plate of muffins that he shared with Bruce along with some bacon, eggs, and coffee he fixed. They were able to get Clint to take a few bites before he fell back to sleep.

About eleven he decided he needed to head out. He wanted to check in on Hill before talking to Fury. If Natasha was still there he could offer her a ride back he thought. Clint would be glad to see her.

Shortly after Steve leaves, there is a knock at the front door; Bruce opens it to find Natasha, who walks right in pushing by him.

"Mr. Hogan is waiting to take you back to Stark Tower. I can watch over Barton until Rogers gets back."

Bruce could tell this was not a negotiable point. "Medicines are on the dresser. Try to get him to drink more. I know why he's apprehensive about liquids but I don't want him getting dehydrated either. You know how to get in touch with me if there is a problem." He heads out the door and is partway down the stairs when Natasha calls out to him.

"Bruce…thanks."

"Not a problem. We are a team, remember?"

Natasha nods to Bruce and closes the door. She immediately heads to the guest room. Clint is still asleep, but it's a restless sleep, he twitches and every once in a while a soft moan escapes his lips. Natasha climbs into bed with him, her head on his shoulder, her hand sweeping gently across his forehead, fingers grazing over his hair. "It's okay, I'm here. You're safe now." Clint settles down and the moans are replaced with gentle snoring. Natasha places her hand on his chest and drifts off to sleep with the calming rhythm of his heart beating against her palm.

"Morning Tasha," Clint kisses the top of her head.

Natasha returns the kiss but on the side of his neck, "I'm sure it's still afternoon, I couldn't have slept that long."

"Well I'm still in bed so it's still morning to me. When did you get here?"

"A little after eleven, I sent Banner home, told him I'd keep an eye on you until Steve got back."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think my leg has finally started to heal. What about you?"

"Still dreaming of fucking drowning but other than that, I guess I'll live."

"Good I prefer you alive."

"So do I."

"Do you want anything to eat? You must be starving."

Clint ran a hand over Natasha's hair and let his hand trail down her shoulder. "No, just want to lay here with you for a while. It seems so long since we've had the time. It's been one mission after another, even then almost never on the same mission together. I wonder if that was part of the bigger plan."

"Fury is looking into that and other things as well. I was able to give a little information during my debriefing, not much though."

"They find your kidnapper?"

"Kolstov, not yet. I'll give them a little time, if not I'll find him myself."

"Is Black Widow becoming patient?"

"Not patient, just, just need a break before jumping back in the field I suppose."

"Completely understand." They lay there as the sun filters through the room. Only an occasional bird song breaks the general silence. Clint is tired but fights going back to sleep because he wants to enjoy every second of this moment. A moment that he was worried he wouldn't get back after seeing her the day she was rescued. A small part of his heart would always ache for how she looked that day. Another scar to add to the many he already accumulated over the years. He notices that some of Natasha's scars and bruises have healed but he knows many remain under her clothing. Her hair, her beautiful red hair, he still sees the singed parts and notices several places where it's a mass of oddly different lengths. All this, he knows will heal, but he worries about how she's doing inside her head. She's so strong, she's survived so much but he'd never quite seen her so broken before he got captured.

"You know you can talk to me about those five days."

"I don't need to."

"You need to talk to someone; you can't hold shit like that in. I don't know what went on but with the nightmares you were having it had to be pretty bad."

"I've already talked about it with someone… Steve."

"So you finally stopped trying to kill him after I left."

"Eventually."

"I knew Cap was the right person to bring you to."

Natasha goes silent for a few minutes. "He said he needs me."

"To do what?"

"Not that kinda need Clint."

"Then what kind of… oh…wow…that's a big step for Cap. So Nat," Clint continues, half teasingly, "do you need him as well?"

"I, I don't know. I don't want what I feel to be just because he helped me through flashbacks and bandaged my wounds."

"Well how did you feel about him before?" Clint asks, a little more serious this time, "You've never mentioned anything to me."

"I tried not to. I mean he's such a damn good person. Even without the serum upgrade he'd still be good person. What would he ever see in me, with so much red…?"

"No one sees the red but you dear."

"I never let myself even entertain the thought of having anything with him besides the team. And then when he said he needed me and I looked into his eyes and knew how he meant it, I, I just don't know."

"So what did you tell him?"

"Nothing just that we needed to talk."

"Oh god Nat. Never tell a man that you need to talk. Poor Cap probably thinks you are going to start trying to kill him again."

"I wasn't ready; I didn't know what to say."

"I would say go for it, but, he's old fashioned, I'm not sure he's up to an arrangement like ours. You still want to keep that arrangement right?"

"Of course, I still want you Clint. And yes, I realize Steve is very traditional. I don't know if he would go for anything less than complete monogamy."

"You need to be upfront with him about it. Better now than breaking his heart later…"

"You still miss her don't you?"

"Yeah, but I was never cut out for a white picket fence and a desk job."

"Me either."

"Although," Clint pulls Natasha into a kiss, "If you were my secretary I could see myself chasing you around the desk." Clint kisses down Natasha's neck while untucking her shirt and running his hand underneath, stroking her bare stomach working his way up.

"Clint," Natasha says letting out a small moan, "Steve could walk in at any moment."

"I guess we'll have to be quiet and close the door."

* * *

After checking by medical to find that Natasha had already left, Steve dropped by Hill's office.

"Hey Maria, you busy?"

"Just burdened with paperwork, I get to assist in background checks now. Seems Lewis' was completely fabricated. But come in, I could use the break."

"I just wanted to thank you for all your help lately. You were our lifeline and I don't think this could've turned out as good as it did if it wasn't for you."

"Now you don't want to me getting a big ego do you? I was just doing my job. I was just lucky enough to be in the right place when the shitstorm hit."

"Well lucky for us you were."

"Oh, wait I have something for you." Maria began looking under her piles of paperwork and opening and closing the drawers of her desk. Finally she spins her chair around and finds what she is looking for on the stack of papers on the floor. "I do believe this is yours. It was in the stuff Ms. Potts brought over that we left at Stark's vacation home." Maria flattens the paper out on her desk. "Nice drawing, who is it?"

Steve looks down at the sketch. He can't believe that with such a short time to get their stuff and leave that she chose to bring this with them. He traces his fingers along the lines he'd drawn. "It's of Natasha."

"Romanov?"

"Yes, Agent Romanov."

Maria turns the sketch back towards her. "I guess I just don't imagine her so… soft around the edges."

"Well it's kind of hard to see that when she's working." Steve picks up the drawing, carefully folds it, and puts it in his pocket. "I've got a meeting with Fury; I don't want to be late."

"Yeah, I think he's still not happy with you attitude from last night."

Steve rushes quickly out Hill's office and down the hall to Fury.

"Seems that spider has caught another fly," Maria says under her breath before diving back into her paperwork.

Steve knocked on Director Fury's door exactly at noon.

"Come in Rogers, no one but you would be that punctual." Steve came in and stood behind the chairs near Fury's desk.

"I'm glad you were still willing to meet me sir."

"Sit down Rogers. I see you have lost a little of that attitude from yesterday. I'm going to chalk that up to heat of the moment and forget about it."

"Yes sir."

"So with that part taken care of, let me bring you up to date on a few things. Obviously due to recent events there will be a shit load of new regulations and procedures. I'll be in paperwork hell for the next week so Agent Madsen will go over stuff with your team tomorrow at nine a.m. here."

"Who's Madsen?"

"Human resources, he must be new, since he was the only one that I didn't have to threaten to get him to work with your team."

"Why don't you give me the new information and I'll go over with it with the team. But not here, probably my house, Stark Tower would be too distracting for Tony, too easy for him to lock himself in a lab when he got bored and Clint won't have to travel far since he is recovering…"

"Rogers, you making plans for something that's not going to happen. Madsen will go over…"

"With all due respect sir, we are not meeting in this building and not with an agent. Trust is very hard to come by on my team and after all of this it's going to be hard for them to trust anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while; you and Hill being the possible exceptions. We just had our handler assist with the kidnapping and torture of one of our team and then personally oversaw the torture of another. We've had agents turn against us. Agents that were hired by you or at least by people you trusted. We will still do our jobs but you all will have to earn back our trust."

"Are you finished Rogers?"

"No sir. I actually wanted to have this meeting to discuss something I've had on my mind for a while…"

Fury and Rogers spent the next two hours in heated debate over Steve's proposal. Steve never backed down and was able to answer every question, every scenario presented to Fury's begrudging approval. In the end Steve left the office a happy man and with a flash drive containing the new regulations and procedures.

* * *

When Steve arrived home, Natasha was just closing the door of the guest room behind her.

"He's asleep again. I managed to get him to eat lunch but he still needs to drink something. How was your meeting with Fury?"

"Perfect."

"We are talking the same Fury right?"

"Yes, but I went in prepared. That helped a lot."

"So what was the meeting about?"

"Changes I thought needed to be made. Speaking of which there is going to be a team meeting here tomorrow, going to have a cookout then we can go over all the new rules and regulations."

"Fury is letting you have the meeting here?"

"Yeah, he figured we didn't want to see the inside of headquarters for a while."

Natasha nodded but didn't believe for a second that it was Fury's idea. "Did he tell you if they had a lead on Kolstov?"

Steve sighed and looked away, "He said it was a 'top priority' and that he would keep us posted."

Natasha knew what that meant. Any time the answer didn't come with a lead agent's name attached to it meant that it was not actively being worked. They had their ringleader, Council member Parsons, and lucked into a few co-conspirators but unless information on Kolstov just dropped into their laps, they weren't making any effort to pursue him. "Maybe the next time Barton and I have some time off we'll go on a hunting trip."

"I'm more than willing to tag along. But of course, the first shot is yours."

Natasha smiled, "I'll only need one."

An uncomfortable silence grew between them after that. Neither knowing what to say, both wanting at the same time to start the "talk" and to never have it at all.

"I've got to go. These clothes that they gave me in medical are really starting to drive me nuts."

Steve finally noticed what Natasha had on, baggy camouflage pants and a black t-shirt that was a least a size to big. "Going out for basic training?"

"Very funny, Rogers. Apparently supply has never heard of women tactical agents so this was the smallest they could find. So I really need to head back to my place, get changed, catch up on things, I'll be back tomorrow."

"I thought we were going to talk."

"Tomorrow, I promise. What time is everyone supposed to be here?"

"Noon."

"Then I'll be over before then."

"You know we don't have to have this convo…"

Natasha grabs his hand, "It'll be okay, really. Clint informed me that I should never tell a man that 'we need to talk'. Men. I'm just not ready to talk yet. So tomorrow, okay."

Steve sighs, "Okay, tomorrow."

After Natasha leaves, Steve brings his laptop into the living room and starts going over the new regulations. About twenty pages in, he is fast asleep. He wakes up an hour later to the sound of gunfire.

"Sorry Cap, didn't realize it would be that loud when I turned it on." Clint turns down the volume and starts changing channels.

"You're out of bed."

"Yup, feeling better and bored, your guest room needs a TV. So what are you reading there?"

"New regulations and procedures."

"Oh great, more shit I have to memorize that doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Lax procedures are a big reason crap like what we just went through happen."

"Whatever."

Steve gets up and goes to the kitchen, bringing back with him a glass of milk that he hands to Clint. "Drink."

"Milk? Are you serious?"

"You are not drinking and both Banner and Natasha are worried about you becoming dehydrated. I figured water would be a no-go and pop would be too harsh on your throat…"

"What about a beer?"

"You're on pain medication. Now quit stalling and drink."

"Yes mama bear." Clint takes a tentative sip at first but under the glare of Steve finishes the whole glass. "So anything else you want me to do."

"Resting is good. We have a meeting tomorrow to go over regulations. It's going to be here and I figured we could have a cookout since most of the team hasn't seen the place. That's if you are up to it. If not I can postpone…"

"I'm good."

"I need to go to the store or it will be a cookout with no food." Steve reaches for his phone. "I'll see if Banner or maybe Ms. Potts can come over and keep an eye on you while I'm gone…"

Clint took the phone out of Steve's hand. "Look mom, I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter. What I need is a beer and something interesting to watch on TV or a target to shoot at."

"Well you not getting a beer and either Natasha has your bow or S.H.I.E.L.D. so I guess you'll be watching TV. I guess I can trust that you won't die while I'm gone. Maybe you'll be less cranky when I get back."

"Yeah, maybe."

"What's up Clint?"

"Nothing… just want to put a couple of arrows in some people."

"Let me guess, the old handler, his council member boss, Kolstov…"

"Yeah, that's a start, an arrow for Fury as well for letting this happen."

"You don't want to shoot Fury, you like your job too much."

"Yeah, that and living. I'm just so pissed off. Not at what happened to me, I've had worse. It's what they did to Natasha. I would die for her Steve, and there she was, five days in hell and I couldn't do a fucking thing."

"None of us could. The whole team would've risked everything to get her out if we had only known."

"Yeah, I know, doesn't make me feel any better about it."

"Doesn't make me feel any better either."

* * *

After Steve got back from shopping he spent the rest of the afternoon and a good part of the evening prepping food for the next day. Clint spent most of the time teasing him about his obsessiveness with the Food Channel and that maybe he needed an intervention. Steve was only slightly annoyed with Clint but liked that he brought the chair in from the guest room to keep him company in the kitchen.

"So Cap, I would definitely get them to reimburse you for your kitchen chairs. What did they think they would find by breaking them? Natasha is small but she can't hide under a chair."

"They didn't break them, I did."

"When did that happen?"

"When I found out you had been captured. I guess I got a little upset."

"Cap, I didn't know you cared. Maybe you should get a couple heavy bags installed in the garage so you don't take out your anger on poor defenseless furniture."

"Must you always be a wise ass?"

"It's a burden, but I manage." Steve throws a strawberry from the fruit salad he's making at Clint who catches it and immediately returns the throw. "So I hear you may have a thing for my girl."

Steve is so stunned that he misses the catch and the fruit hits his face and falls to the floor.

"You two haven't had the talk yet have you?" Clint continues.

"No. She said tomorrow before the cookout. You're not thinking about an arrow for me are you?"

"Only my explosive ones would do any real damage to you and that's a bit of overkill don't you think? Besides why would I want to shoot my big little brother?"

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? Nat's one hell of a woman. You'd have to be blind not to notice."

"I'm sorry, Clint, I feel so bad…"

"Don't be. Just hear her out tomorrow. I promise you, it's not as bad as you think it's going to be." Clint gets up and starts searching the fridge. "I'm thirsty; anything in here I can drink that's not for tomorrow."

"Whatever you want," Steve relaxes now that Clint has dropped the Natasha conversation. "Just no beer."

"Yes mom."

"When are you going to stop calling me that?"

"When you stop acting like one."

Steve finished up his prep work shortly after Clint, with a little prodding, went to bed. He still wasn't really ready to sleep so he opened up his laptop and starts reading over the regulations again. Steve lost track of time and soon the first rays of the morning sun was filtering through the living room windows. It was six-thirty and too late to think about sleep at that point. Steve decided to go for a run and maybe check in on his neighbor, see if she wanted him to bring her a plate from that afternoon's cookout. He was just taking off his pants to put on his shorts when he realizes that he still had the sketch in his pocket. Unfolding it onto his dresser he decides to skip the run for today. Instead he takes the sketch into his office and begins taking the blurred newspaper photo out of its frame.

* * *

Hawkeye had enough of being cooped up. After a fourth round of channel surfing, he gives up, tossing the remote on the coffee table and wanders into Steve's office. "Hey Cap you got any rubber bands?"

Steve searches in one of his desk drawers and hands Clint the few he can find. "What you need them for?"

"I figure I'd go outside for target practice. What are you up to?"

"Trying to find out what S.H.I.E.L.D. has on Kolstov."

"Why don't you just talk to the lead agent?"

"Kolstov has been listed as a 'top priority'."

"You're fucking kidding me, after what he did to Natasha?"

"They don't think he's a major player. So they aren't interested."

"What have you found out?"

"Not much, it's amazing what information is above my security clearance."

"Talk to Stark, I'm sure he can get into those files."

"Yeah, was just trying to do it the right way."

"Right is a matter of opinion."

The outdoors was calming to Clint. Sitting in the grass taking out targets with his makeshift slingshot, even if it was just various leaves and dead limbs, was making him feel human again. He had managed to find a good pocket full of small rocks in the woods behind Steve's house and was slowly working his way through them. Suddenly he heard a noise to the side of him and turned ready to unleash a pebble defense on however decided to disturb his calm.

"Jumpy little bird?"

"Hey Tasha, you look nice, great haircut."

"Thanks, decided to just let someone cut all the burned and butchered parts out. It made me look too much like a victim."

"I should've had you stop by my place; I'm tired of seeing these pants."

Natasha throws him the bag she is carrying, "Already thought of that."

"Thanks, so all ready for your talk? Something tells me the 'pretty girl' dress ain't for me. Looks like that one that they threw in with the supplies for us."

"He thought it made me look pretty."

"I remember you tried to kill him for that comment."

"I was out of my head at the time."

"I know Tash. So I guess you figured out how you feel about him."

"Yeah, I needed some time to figure it out. I think I need him too. It's scary that I trust him as much as I do you, even though we've been through so much more."

"Cap' has that effect on people."

"I guess I should go in."

Clint stands up and kisses Natasha "No matter how this goes, remember I'm still here. He wants you; you just got to show him how it will work."

As Natasha walked through the kitchen and living room on the way to Steve's office, her nervousness threatened to stop her in her tracks. She wanted nothing more than to shut off her emotions and put up the walls that were Black Widow and necessary for her survival. But she knew that would do nothing but push Steve away, especially right now when he had to be so worried about what she might say. No, she couldn't use her defenses and in a way that was liberating, but she hated how it made her feel when she was like this and alone.

When she gets to his office, Steve seems to be looking for a book on his shelf but turns before she can say a word. "Hi Natasha."

"Hey."

"Are you ready to talk?" Steve pulls his desk chair out for Natasha but she shakes her head, preferring to stand.

"Not really, but then I'm not much for talking about things."

"Yeah, I understand. We could pretend that what I said never happened."

"No, somehow talking to you is okay and… I think I need you too."

Steve looked out the window into the yard where he knew that Clint was sitting somewhere, "I wish you didn't."

"Why?" She was barely able to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"I can't hurt him, Natasha. No matter what I feel about you, how much I may want to be with you, I can't hurt Clint to have that. You two are good for each other and I don't want to ruin that."

"But you won't be..."

"I don't want you to break-up with Clint for me. As much as I think about you it always comes back to that. And that I can't allow, it's..."

"Steve, Clint and I are not exclusive. Never have been, never will." Natasha blurts out. "Sorry, didn't mean to just throw that out. I've been agonizing over how to explain to you that we could have something without hurting Clint. I knew that was very important you. It's important to me as well."

"So Clint and you have other…"

"Other relationships? Yes, Clint mostly. I think sometimes he's in love with being in love. They usually last a few weeks or months. The acrobat from Brazil lasted over a year. But in the end she wanted to settle down and little bird doesn't like to be caged."

"What about you?"

"Trust doesn't come easy to me so mainly it's need of physical release when he's gone away for weeks at a time. Steve, I was trained to use men, so I'm not so used to wanting anything from them besides what I've been sent to get. Clint has been the exception and now it seems you may be another exception."

"Me, what could you want from me, what could I give you that Clint can't?"

"Clint understands Black Widow, he understands having a past that you are always trying to make up for, and of the darkness you are constantly fighting. But you, you make me feel things about myself I didn't think possible, you make me feel like there may be something…good inside me."

"But there is Natasha, If only I could get you to see yourself as I do."

Natasha reaches up to touch his cheek, he instinctively leans into it, "Maybe one day you will. I mean you got me to wear a dress like this, anything is possible."

Steve stammers, "You, You wore that for me?" he takes a step back to fully take in the outfit. It's very similar to the one she had on, what seems a lifetime ago. But this one she picked out. The flowers are not the pastel ones of before but red trimmed in black. But the cut it the same, still giving her the look of innocence and just a little fragility, while Black Widow still clearly lurked under the surface. "Am I allowed to say that you look beautiful?"

Natasha did a little twirl for him, knowing she would die of embarrassment if anyone else saw her do this, "You are allowed say whatever you want Steve."

"Then I say you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen…" He regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth. Unconsciously he ducked his head and turned away.

"I'm the second most beautiful, Peggy will always be the first. I know that. I don't have a problem with it; I know how much she means to you. I'm sorry you two never really got a chance."

"But you should have a problem with it."

"What? Do you want me to be jealous, upset, tell you to forget every other woman? I don't work that way. That's why I don't believe in love, makes people be childish, do childish things…"

"If you don't believe in love then what is this going to be? What do you believe in?"

"Trust. Loyalty. I would rather know that you have my back in the field, that you would take a bullet before letting harm come to me than whether or not you think another woman's ass looks better than mine."

"Well that would be hard to find since well you have a really nice one."

Natasha sighs, "You've been around Barton too much."

"He's teaching me to interject levity into tense situations… Look Natasha, I don't know how this will work or if it will work. Hell I'm not even completely sure what I want. All I know is I need you more than just as a team member. I'm not good at these things. I want to protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure you know you good and beautiful, not just on the outside but in, I want to…But then I think of Clint. He's the closest thing I have to family anymore and I know you say he's okay with it but…I just wasn't brought up this way, I'm not sure even such things existed in my time. I don't want to ever hurt him. I don't want to hurt you."

"But you do want something, tell me. Trust me enough to tell me."

"I…I," Steve nervously licks his lips and then not able to meet her eyes instead looks out the window. He takes a deep breath then turns back to meet her gaze. "I really want to kiss you right now…if that's okay."

"Yes Steve, it's okay." Natasha says softly. She is always surprised by his innocence, his old fashioned manners. The first time Clint kissed her, there was no asking, suddenly his hands were on either side of her face, his lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue hot and insisting entry into her mouth. She hadn't been surprised though, that night she had flirted with and teased him all though dinner. But she knew this kiss with Steve would be nothing like that.

"Close your eyes, please." Natasha obeyed. In the darkness she was clearly aware of every sound around her, the gentle hum of electronics, the birds outside, and his slightly ragged breathing. She felt his fingers oh so gentle against her cheek, her jawline, her chin, lifting it slightly. His soft warm lips touched hers; feather light at first, then as his nervousness began to melt away more firmly yet still maintaining the gentleness. Natasha likened it to the first kiss of innocent teenagers. A kiss she had never received, until now. She returned his kiss with small kisses against his lips, she felt him shiver and it made her smile. This was a time for her to give pleasure without an agenda, without trying to manipulate, she couldn't remember a time like this.

Steve never wanted this moment to end. He knew he was probably doing things wrong, how could he compare to Clint, to other men in her past, but right now it felt nice. He opened his eyes a bit to move to kiss her cheek and saw her smile and it made it just that much harder to stand. He kissed one cheek and then the other, then cradling her face in his hands kissed her mouth again, pressing a bit harder this time, a little more confident that she wanted this as much as he. And Natasha did want this. She wanted to do so much more, to nibble along every inch of his neck, to touch and kiss every muscle, ever patch of skin under his shirt. But she knew this would have to be at his pace or he would bolt. So she'd had to be happy with the warm lips now placing small kisses on hers, large hands that where framing her face, caressing it like it was the most fragile thing in the world. Fragile like this moment, she thought.

There is a knock on the doorframe. Steve takes a quick step backward and Natasha almost falls forward from the sudden movement. Steve looks toward the door to see Clint standing there. "The rest of the crew is here. Cap' you may want to get to the grill before Stark decides it needs modifying." Steve stands mortified. He wants to crawl into a hole and just disappear. Clint looks from Natasha to Steve and smiles. "I see you two worked things out, great." Before Steve can respond Clint is gone.

"It's that enough approval for you?" Natasha says wiping her lipstick from Steve's lips.

"I guess so."

"We better get out there before Stark sets the yard on fire."

Steve takes a deep breath, lets it out, squaring his shoulders. "Yes, need to get everyone good and fed before I make the announcement."

"What announcement?" Natasha asked tentatively.

"I'm the team's new handler."

"Really? That's what you went to Fury about?"

"Yes. I figured the team needed someone they could trust, especially now, and I'm not really sent out on that many missions…"

"You know Barton is going to give you hell. He's given every handler hell."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

As if on cue, Clint yells from the back door, "Steve, now would be good, Stark has out a pocket tool kit."

"Natasha, can you go out there and deal with Stark?" Steve asks. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Sure. Don't take too long, I may have to resort to violence," Natasha says with a smile.

Steve walks to his desk and looks over the pictures of Agent Coulson and his broken children. "I hope I make you proud, sir." He touches the framed photo of Coulson then walks out to lead his team.


End file.
